






?'■»>.■ ".-.^■' ■v',n)kV'")''-'! ■■ : 










GPO 



I ^' J^.^ 



Plays 
By Percival Wilde 



Dawn and Other One-Act Plays of Life 

Today. 

Dawn — The Noble Lord — The Traitor — A 
House of Cards — Playing With Fire — The 
Finger of God. 

A Question of Morality and Other Plays. 

A Question of Morality — Confessional — The 
Villain in the Piece — A ccording to Darwin — 
The Beautiful Story. 

The Unseen Host and Other War Plays. 

The Unseen Host — Mothers of Men — Pawns 
— In the Ravine — Valkyr el 

Eight Comedies for Little Theatres. 

The Sequel — The Previous Engagement — The 
Dyspeptic Ogre — In the Net — A Wonderful 
Woman — Catesby — His Return — Embryo. 

In Preparation: 

The One-Act Play: Its Technique. A 
Manual. 

The Inn of Discontent and Other 
Fantastic Plays. 



A QUESTION OF 
MORALITY 



And Other Pla 



lys 



BY 
PERGIVAL WILDE 




BOSTON 
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1922 



r5 3S'^s 



/^2 



Copyright, 19 15 
By the century COMPANY 

Copyright, 1915 

By MITCHELL KENNERLEY 

Copyright, 1915, 1916 

By PERCIVAL WILDE 

All rights reserved, including that of translation into 
foreign languages. 

These plays in their printed form are designed for the read- 
ing public only. All dramatic rights in them are fully protected 
by copyright in the United States and Great Britain, and no 
performance — professional or amateur — may be given without the 
written permission of the author and the payment of royalty. 
Communications may be addressed to the author, care of Little, 
Brown, and Co., 34 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 



Printed in the United States of America 






1:0 

WALTER 

MORE THAN BROTHER FRIEND 



. PREFACE 

Together with " The Smile of Rhadamanthos," 
AN Egyptian Morality, Now for the First 
(and Last) Time Englished. 

THE writer of one-act plays is in a peculiar 
position. No other department of the drama 
has been so long and so disastrously neglected. 
The world's great one-act plays may be checked off 
on the fingers of one hand. Schnitzler, Synge, per- 
haps Sudermann, and not more than one or two others 
may claim that they have done work of more than 
passing merit in this field; but the list ends there, and 
at that, it would be difficult to cite five titles with- 
out including plays whose right to figure in the illus- 
trious minority would be very seriously and very justly 
questioned. 

Where there are no standards, each must shift for 
himself. The writer of one-act plays must venture 
into uncharted seas. He must dare, as a man who 
knows not on which side the dangers lie, with the full 
knowledge that a mistake will be fatal. 

Yet this is no unmitigated evil. He cannot profit 
by the faults of the past ; but he can, nevertheless, com- 

vii 



viii PREFACE 

mit faults which others may avoid. It may be un- 
fortunate for the individual; it cannot be so for the 
mass. In the last analysis bad writing is possibly as 
useful as good writing. The sure pilot who first 
steers a true course does not, perhaps, render so 
great a service to his successors as the unlucky navi- 
gator who comes to grief on a hidden rock, and re- 
mains, for years afterwards, a warning of what not to 
do. 

To set a good example is excellent; but to set a 
bad example for the future admonition of others is 
an enduring benefit. Buoys mark dangers — not safety. 
The wake of him who has passed through unscathed 
is but a ripple on the face of the waters, useless except 
to his immediate followers. And the prudent voy- 
ager bears in mind that every passing gust also pro- 
duces a ripple, and locates the channel by guiding 
between the wrecks on either side. 

These premises, then, we take for granted: that the 
one-act play is an independent art form; that it is 
capable of producing effects totally foreign to the 
longer drama; that the very special class of material 
which naturally falls into the one-act play form can 
in no other way be as potently dealt with. 

With much of the same false reasoning that holds 
that a story is the miniature of the novel, the one-act 
play has been considered a condensation of a larger 
work. Nothing could be more unjust. The one-act play 
moves within bounds of which the writer of long plays 
knows nothing. It is not an abbreviated play; much 
less, as a rule, is it the material out of which a longer 



PREFACE ix 

play can be made. Unity is its inspiration; unity is 
its aim; unity is its soul. Unity is at once its main- 
spring and its escapement, its motive power and its 
limitation. The swiftness of exposition, the brevity, 
the homogeneity of effect which insists that every 
word contribute towards that effect, these are neces- 
sities unknown to the more leisurely three- or four- 
acter. The entire first act of a long play may be 
given up to the narration of what has come before : the 
one-act play must accomplish this in a few minutes. 
If, in the course of the long play, the interest flag 
momentarily, little is lost. Should this occur, even 
for an instant, the one-act play is ruined. The long 
play has dispensed with the Greek unities: the one- 
act play is their slave. And not least important, the 
long play is punctuated by intermissions, during which 
the audience may reflect and digest: the one-act play 
is denied their help. 

A single effect, conveyed powerfully or delicately, 
or poetically or rudely, or seriously or whimsically, 
according to the character of the effect itself; an in- 
stantaneous arrest of attention, a continued grasp, and 
relinquishment only after the curtain has fallen; this 
is the goal and the method of the true one-acter. 

That it achieves its greatest eifect on the stage, 
rather than in print, goes without saying. " A play," 
to quote Clayton Hamilton's comprehensive definition, 
** is a story devised to be presented by actors on a stage 
before an audience." Add to this its corollaries: that a 
play is essentially based upon crisis, and that it is 
very generally expressed in terms of emotion. Deduct 



X PREFACE 

crisis, do away with emotion, and the play, as a 
play, has ceased to exist. The two are the founda- 
tion of all drama: the mathematics of Euclid or the 
philosophy of Kant, dramatized, would show both. 

Crisis interpreted by emotion — our realization of 
the first, our feeling of the second, are increased when 
we share them with others. Points which escape us 
in the reading are obvious in the production ; and these 
points, almost without exception, are those to which we 
apply the adjective " dramatic." When the Puritani- 
cal mother, in " Fanny's First Play," turns to the 
" daughter of joy " at the end of a violent scene with 
the extremely human question, " Where did you buy 
that white lace? " the audience chortles with delight at 
the fidelity of the characterization: it is an exquisitely 
true touch. In the printed play the line passes with 
scant attention. At the best it may evoke a smile from 
one of the unusual readers who can picture a situation 
in his mind's eye. But that is all. 

Yet there are some who argue loudly for the so- 
called " closet drama " ; that anomalous hybrid which 
written in the form of a play is not meant for produc- 
tion. There are literary cuckoos who decline to de- 
posit their offspring on the properly labeled shelf, epic, 
narrative, or what not; who brand their productions 
"drama," and shun the only test of drama: the foot- 
lights; who, like our restaurants, serve us with shells 
of familiar animals filled with a meat, which however 
excellent in itself, belongs elsewhere. Wherefore the 
discreet author, sensible of his own unworthiness to 
hold forth on a subject which perplexes abler minds 



PREFACE xi 

than his, terminates his preface with a morality re- 
cently deciphered from the hieratic by a learned Egyp- 
tologist, and here, for the first time, offered for the 
delectation of a modern audience. 



The Smile of Rhadamanthos 

So they came into the great hall, where sate the 
three mighty judges of the dead, even Rhadamanthos, 
and Minos, and Aeacos. 

Then spake Rhadamanthos unto the first shade, and 
he answered him in fear and trembling: 

— I, my lord, was an artist. 

— ^An artist? challenged Aeacos, and his deep voice 
rumbled and echoed from the vaulted ceiling. 

— A maker of pictures, added the shade, and his 
limbs quivered beneath him, aye, so that he scarce 
could stand upright. 

— Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 

And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
the voice of the maker of pictures made answer: 

— I made pictures — beautiful pictures — but 

—But? 

—But? 

—But? 

— They were not intended to be seen. 

Then sighed the three judges, and Minos made a 
mark in the great book which lay open before him. 

And Rhadamanthos waved the first shade aside, and 
turned unto the second: 



xii PREFACE 

— ^And what, in life, wast thou? 

And the second made answer: 

— I, my lord, was an artist. 

— An artist? challenged Aeacos, and his terrible 
voice echoed and rumbled from the vaulted ceiling. 

— A maker of music, added the shade, and his mus- 
cles were as wax when the fire burneth, aye, so that 
he barely could stand upright. 

— Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 

And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
the voice of the maker of music made answer: 

— I made symphonies — beautiful symphonies — 
but 

—But? 

—But? 

—But? 

— They were not intended to be heard. 

Then sighed the three judges, and Minos made a 
second mark in the great book which lay open before 
him. 

And Rhadamanthos waved the second shade aside, 
and turned unto the third: 

— ^And what, in life, wast thou? 

And the third shade made answer: 

— I, my lord, was an artist. 

— ^An artist ? challenged Aeacos, and the voice of him 
echoed and re-echoed even as a voice of thunder from 
the vaulted ceiling. 

— A maker of plays, added the shade, and his knees 
were as a jelly, aye, his spine was as a slender reed when 
the raging waters overwhelm it. 



PREFACE xiii 

— Then why dost thou tremble? demanded Minos. 

And in that place where the truth must be spoken 
the voice of the maker of plays made answer: 

— I made plays — beautiful plays — but 

—But? 

—But? 

—But? 

— They were not intended to be acted. 

Then sighed the three mighty judges, aye, sighed as 
when the wind of autumn sweeps through a forest of 
cedars. And Minos made so great a mark in the book 
which lay open before him that his graphite was severed 
asunder. 

And then Rhadamanthos, chief of all the judges, 
waved the unhappy three before him. 

— Thou, he spake, thou, the maker of things whose 
essence was in being seen, and yet were not to be seen, 
and thou, the maker of things whose essence was in 
being heard, and yet were not to be heard, proceed to 
the little room at the end of the hall. 

And the miserable shades made obeisance. 

— There, spake Rhadamanthos, will you find the 
shade of the great W. S. Gilbert, who, with the as- 
sistance of his Mikado, will determine the punishment 
to fit your crime. I have spoken. 

And treading mightily on the tail of a sleeping 
thunderbolt, he sent for a messenger of ferocious as- 
pect to conduct the culprits to their doom. 

Then turned Rhadamanthos unto the shade of the 
maker of plays, whose teeth now chattered as if he 
were about to make a curtain speech. 



xiv PREFACE 

— ^As for thee, spake Rhadamanthos, the maker of 
things whose essence was to be acted, and yet were 
not to be acted, who had the gift of creating life itself, 
but who created only a sham and a mockery of life, 
thy case will we judge ourselves. 

So consulted Rhadamanthos with the other judges, 
aye, even with Minos, who in life ruled over Crete, 
and with Aeacos, son of Jupiter and Aegina. 

And at length spake Rhadamanthos: 

— Thou, maker of plays (and the attentive Minos 
wrote down each word of the inviolable decree), thou 
wilt prepare for publication by the Hades Press a com- 
plete edition of thy writings. They will be issued for 
subscribers only, on Japanese vellum, in twenty royal 
octavo volumes, richly bound in genuine crushed levant, 
top and side edges gilt, with blind tooling and inlaid 
doublures by the shade of Clovis Eve. There will be 
notes by twenty distinguished commentators, and there 
will be an engraved portrait of the author as frontis- 
piece in each volume. I have spoken. 

Then the shade of the amazed maker of plays, un- 
able to believe his ears, turned unto the mighty Rha- 
damanthos : 

— This, he asked, only this is to be my punishment? 

— Only this, spake Rhadamanthos. 

— I thank your excellencies, said the shade of the 
maker of plays, and bowing low, he was led away. 

Then smiled Rhadamanthos, aye, and Minos, the 
just judge, and Aeacos, who in life erected the temple 
of Zeus Panhellenius, also smi ******* 



PREFACE XV 

Here, in the middle of a word, the palimpsest breaks 
off. But learned Egyptologists who are familiar with 
the publications of the Hades Press inform us that 
the richly bound volumes are invariably printed in 
invisible ink. 

New York. 
December, 1915- 



CONTENTS 



A Question of Morality 



Confessional 



The Villain in the Piece 



According to Darwin 



The Beautiful Story 



PAGE 
I 

75 
107 

147 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

A CXDMEDY 



CHARACTERS 

Shelton. 
Carruthers. 
Dorothy Shelton. 
A Butler. 

THE SCENE 
At Shelton s. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

y^iS* the curtain rises, Shelton and Car- 
/^ RUTHERS are discovered. Shelton, a not 
"^ unattractive social butterfly of some thirty- 

five years of age, has inherited wealth, and having 
never had to concern himself with productive labor, 
^ has acquired a fine dilettantism : an ability to do many 
things badly, without doing any one of them so badly 
that it becomes evident he has neglected it. Car- 
ruth ERS, his friend, has even less claim to dis- 
tinction. They would pass in a crowd — if the 
crowd were large enough, but no one, with the pos- 
sible exception of a Society Editor, would give either 
of them a second glance. Were one to seek some- 
thing visibly commendable about them, one might re- 
mark that they are groomed and tailored to an ex- 
quisite nicety — too exquisite, perhaps. They are in 
full dress, for they have just finished the evening 
meal, and as the assiduous butler lights their cigars, 
places the liqueur tray on the table, and discreetly 
effaces himself, they slowly push their chairs into 
more comfortable positions, and look at each other. 
There is something in that look: something unusual, 
and the shadow of a smile curls about the husband's 
lips as he raises his arm to consult a wrist-watch, 

3 



4 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Carruthers 
What time? 

Shelton 

Twelve minutes of eight — no, ten minutes of. My 
watch is a little slow. 

Carruthers 
(Rather brilliantly, after a pause) 
Thought it was later than that. 

Shelton 
(Having weighed the pros and cons carefully) 
So did I. 

Carruthers 
(After another pause) 
Thought it was at least quarter past. 

Shelton 
So did I. (Consulting the watch again.) It's 
eleven minutes of — that is to say, nine minutes of, 
now. (He pauses and smiles reflectively.) Jerry! 

Carruthers 
Yes? 

Shelton 
I wonder what Cheever*s saying to her now? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 5 

Carruthers 
I wonder? 

S HELTON 

{Examining a time-table) 
Their train pulls out at eight. 

Carruthers 

(With a trace of animation) 

I thought you said they were leaving this after- 
noon. 

Shelton 
Eh? 

Carruthers 
The six o'clock train, you said first. 

Shelton 

Oh, yes. But she had to do some shopping. You 
can't get any decent clothes in Chicago, you know. 
{He chuckles slowly.) I suppose she wanted the 
satisfaction of charging a final bill to me, eh, Jerry? 

Carruthers 
{Nodding sympathetically) 
It's cost you a pretty penny, all in all. 

Shelton 

{Philosophically ) 

Well, your wife doesn't elope with some other chap 
every day, does she? 



6 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Carruthers 
( Undecidedly ) 
Er, no. 

S HELTON 

This is a special occasion. If Dorothy feels she 
has a right to carte blanche on her last day as my 
wife, I don't know but what I ought to agree with 
her. It's sentimental, you know. 

Carruthers 
But expensive. 

S HELTON 

Sentiment is always expensive. At any rate, I'm 
footing the bills. A little more or less doesn't mat- 
ter. (He rises, and produces a mass of papers from 
a convenient desk.) Just look at these. 

Carruthers 
What are they? 

Shelton 
The detectives' reports. {He thumbs them over 
with a smile.) It's been like a continued-in-our-next 
story. I've been reading them for the last month. 

Carruthers 
{Surprised) 
I didn't know you had detectives following her. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 7 

Shelton 
(Confused) 
Er, yes. 

Carruthers 
Do you think that's cricket? 

Shelton 
{Hesitantly) 
Well, I couldn't fl5>& her if she was going to run 
away. 

Carruthers 
Why not? 

Shelton 
She's too good a woman to lie to me — and I didn't 
want to embarrass her. (Carruthers smiles cynic- 
ally. Shelton crushes him politely.) You wouldn't 
understand such things anyhow, Jerry. {He bundles 
the reports together again.) The last installment 
reached me to-day. It took her a month to make up 
her mind. Cheever wanted her to elope long ago, 
but she wouldn't hear of it. She had scruples. And 
to-morrow ! 

Carruthers 
{Thinking he is rising to the situation) 
To-morrow's another day. 



8 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Shelton 

{With a faint frown) 

No. To-morrow I'll be a free man — no wife, no 

responsibilities, no conscience. Rather clever of me, 

eh, Jerry ? If I had told her I didn't mind, she never 

would have run o£E. Never! 

Carruthers 
She's a moral woman, your wife. 

Shelton 
( Nodding emphatically ) 
Well, rather! {Confidentially.) Do you know, 
I'm not sure that she isn't running off with Cheever 
because she wants to reform him? He's a bad lot, 
you know; gambles, and drinks, and a devil with the 
ladies. 

Carruthers 
{Slowly) 
I'm not knocking anybody, but you used to travel 
around with him. 

Shelton 

{Not at all disturbed) 

Yes: when I was single. Oh, I'm not making any 

bones about it: I was as bad as he — worse. {With 

satisfaction.) Much worse. Cheever and I, well, we 

had reps! You know what they were like. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 
Carruthers 



I do. 



Sheltoh 
(Solemnly) 

But that's all over with now. Fm a better man 
since I married Dorothy. She's reformed me. There 
was lots to reform, too. I was a bad 'un. But that 
didn't bother her: she enjoyed it. She used to talk 
to me, 'just like a mother, Jerry, and she got me to 
cut out cards, and the ponies — (he pauses reflectively) 
— I used to lose a bale of money on the races, Jerry. 
(Carruthers does not answer. He finishes em- 
phatically.) She's had an awfully good influence 
on me. 

Carruthers 
{After a period of cogitation) 
She's helped you? 

S HELTON 

{Enthusiastically ) 
Helped me? I can't begin to tell you how many 
ways 

Carruthers 
{Interrupting) 
Then why are you letting her go? 



lo A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

S HELTON 

{Taken aback) 
Eh? 

Carruthers 
Why are you letting her run off with Cheever? 

S HELTON 

{Nervously) 
You don't keep on taking the medicine after you're 
cured, do you, Jerry? I'm cured, you know. And 
I don't want to be cured any more than I am. I'm a 
good man. I'm so good, Jerry, I'm so good some- 
times, that I'm almost afraid of myself! {He pauses, 
to continue candidly.) It's so different — and so 
strange. Before I married Dorothy I wasn't good: 
that was when I went around with Cheever. But it 
was so comfortable: I was so sure of myself. I never 
had any regrets. I wasn't afraid to drink, because 
even if I — well, even if I did take a drop too much I 
wouldn't make a fool of myself: I'd act just as if I 
were sober. {He emphasizes his point with a clenched 
fist.) Jerry, I was consistent then! I was depend- 
able. I never had anything to be ashamed of. What- 
ever I did, well, I stood back of it. I didn't have to 
worry. And now? I'm living on the brink of a 
volcano! I'm full of all kinds of impulses to do good 
things : things I don't want to do. I never know what's 
going to happen next, and Jerry, I don't like it! It's 
not fair to me. I'm like a man who has swallowed a 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY ii 

stick of dynamite: he's expecting it to blow up any 
minute, but if It ever does blow up, there won't be 
enough of him left to be surprised at it. (Car- 
RUTHERS, considerably beyond his depth, makes no 
reply.) A man should be true to himself. I don't 
know whom I'm true to, but It's not Billy Shelton! 
There's no Billy Shelton left: he's nine-tenths Dorothy, 
and one-tenth remnants! 

Carruthers 
{Shifting uneasily) 
Isn't it time to go to a show? 

Shelton 

{Consulting his watch) 

Eight o'clock. That is, two minutes after. Jerry, 
she's gone! 

Carruthers 
All right. Let's get our coats on. 
{He rises.) 

Shelton 
No. Wait a minute. 

Carruthers 
{Glancing at him curiously) 
What's the matter with you? 

Shelton 
It's too sudden. I can't realize It yet. 



12 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Carruthers 
You've been expecting it a month. 

Shelton 
Yes. 

Carruthers 
Waiting for it — counting the hours. 

Shelton 
Yes. {He throws his cigar away nervously.) Jerry, 
it's two years since I've been to a show without 
Dorothy. 

Carruthers 
Well? 

Shelton 
What are you going to do afterwards? 

Carruthers 
Anything you like. 

Shelton 
For instance? 

Carruthers 
Stop in somewheres for a bite. Look in at the Club : 
there's always a game of stud. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 13 

S HELTON 

{Nodding thoughtfully) 

I used to lose a lot of money at that, Jerry. {He 
looks at him appealingly.) Jerry. 

Carruthers 
Well? 

S HELTON 

Would you mind — if I stayed home to-night? 

Carruthers 
{Surprised) 
What? 

Shelton 
I mean it. I don't feel like going out so soon 
after 

Carruthers 
It's not a funeral, you know. 

Shelton 
No. But 

Carruthers 
But what? 

Shelton 
Dorothy wouldn't like it. 



14 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Carruthers 
Good Lord! 

S HELTON 

{Nodding seriously) 

I mean it. Anyhow, you want to see some musical 
comedy, don't you? 

Carruthers 
Why not? 

S HELTON 

It would bore me to death. {Rather shamefacedly.) 
I used to care for that sort of thing, but Dorothy 
taught me to enjoy the opera. 

Carruthers 
{Facing him resolutely) 
Answer me one question. 

S HELTON 

WeU? 

Carruthers 
Is Dorothy your wife, or was she your wife? 

Shelton 
{Hesitantly) 
I guess it's " is." You see, she's not more than ten 
miles away from New York now. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 15 

Carruthers 
And you're afraid you may have to account to her? 

S HELTON 

No. It's not that. She's left me, and I'm my own 
master. But the very day that she elopes, don't you 
think it would be a little (he searches for a word) — a 
little indecent if I were to start celebrating? I'm a 
gentleman, Jerry, and it wouldn't be quite respectful 
to Dorothy. She mightn't like it. {He lights on a 
happy simile.) It's like reading the will while the 
corpse is still warm, isn't it? Come now, be honest, 
Jerry. 

Carruthers 
{With warmth) 
Well, I'm thirty- three, and I'm a bachelor. 

S HELTON 

What's the point? 

Carruthers 
I say if that's married life, I don't want to get 
married ! 

{The door opens, and Dorothy, a tall, 
slim, rather attractive woman in her late 
twenties, stands on the threshold. She is 
quite excited, and she trembles a little. The 
men, thunderstruck at her sudden appear- 



i6 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

ancBj are unable to voice a greeting. Shel- 
TON, collapsed in his chair, gasps like a fish 
out of water, and Carruthers, petrified at 
the height of an oratorical gesture, is not 
much better.) 

S HELTON 

{At length) 
Good evening, Dorothy. (Dorothy leaves the 
doorway, and staggers to a chair. Shelton, alarmed, 
hastens to her.) Get some water, Jerry. 

Dorothy 

No, no. I want nothing. 

(Carruthers, carafe in hand, stands mo- 
tionless. Shelton indicates the door, 
Carruthers «o^^^ and goes.) 

Dorothy 
Is he gone? 

Shelton 
Yes. {Genuinely anxious.) Is anything wrong 
with you, Dorothy? 

Dorothy 
No. . . . {She pauses.) Billy. 

Shelton 
Yes? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 17 

Dorothy 
IVe come back. I've come home again. 

Shelton 
{Lamely) 
Yes. So I notice. 

Dorothy 
You got my note? 

Shelton 
Your note? What note? 

Dorothy 
I sent it with a messenger half an hour ago. 

Shelton 
I haven't seen it. 

Dorothy 

No? {She passes her hand over her forehead 
wearily.) Billy, it was a farewell. 

Shelton 

{With an affectation of surprise) 
What? 

Dorothy 

I was on the point of leaving you: of running oflE 
with another man. 



1 8 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Shelton 
With Cheever? 

Dorothy 

You suspected? (Shelton nods. She goes to- 
wards him with outstretched hands.) Billy, at the last 
minute something stopped me. Something made me 
come home to you. 

{For an instant Shelton is silent. Then 
comes the amazing question:) 



Why? 



Shelton 

Dorothy 
{Staggered) 



What? 



Shelton 
{Insistently) 

You were on the point of running away. You had 
planned everything carefully: people don't do such 
things on the spur of the moment. What stopped 
you? 

Dorothy 
{Gasping at the shock) 
Don't you love me? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 19 

S HELTON 

(Not answering the question) 

Cheever is a rich man. Of course, he hasn't got as 
much as I've got, but he has plenty to take care of 
you. The scandal you must have been prepared for. 
If you loved Cheever, what made you come back to me ? 

Dorothy 
You don't love me, Billy? 

S HELTON 

Would that have stopped you? 

Dorothy 

Would that have ? {She stops, thunderstruck 

at what she sees within herself.) I don't know! 
(Breaking down and weeping.) I don't know, Billy! 
( There is a pause. Then she gathers herself to- 
gether.) Billy, look at me! 

Shelton 
Well? 

Dorothy 
Am I a good woman? 

Shelton 
(Hesitantly) 
Well 



20 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Dorothy 
Tell me the truth, Billy. 

Shelton 
You were a good woman when you married me. 

Dorothy 
( Excitedly ) 
Yes! That's right! I was a good woman then. 
But am I a good woman now^ {He hesitates.) 
Answer me! Tell me! 

Shelton 
{After a pause) 
I don't know, Dorothy. 

Dorothy 
{Desperately) 

Billy, neither do I! {There is a pause.) No girl 
was ever brought up as I was. We were good: so 
good! All the people I met were so good! I don't 
believe any of them ever had a normal impulse. They 
were saints, Billy, saints! Then you were intro- 
duced to me — you remember? 

Shelton 
Yes. 

Dorothy 
I thought you were the worst man I had ever met. 
(Shelton is a little upset, but Dorothy proceeds 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 21 

fluently.) I had heard the most awful stories about 
you, oh, the most unbelievable things! You and 
Cheever ! 

S HELTON 

{Nodding) 
We were pals. 

Dorothy 

Yes. I began to think. I knew that if I married 
a man as good as I was, I'd go mad: stark, staring 
mad! {She pauses.) Billy, have you ever felt an 
impulse to do something outrageous? 

S HELTON 

Of course. 

Dorothy 
What happened? 

S HELTON 

I did it. 

Dorothy 

So did I! For the first time in my life! I mar- 
ried you! 

S HELTON 

{Offended) 
Thank you, Dorothy. 



22 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Dorothy 

Oh, I've had no regrets! It wasn't good for me, 
but I've enjoyed it! I've enjoyed it too much! 

S HELTON 

What do you mean? 

Dorothy 
Billy, do you know you've had a great influence on 
me? {He cannot answer.) Do you imagine a woman 
can live with you for two years, as I have lived with 
you, and remain a perfectly good woman? 

S HELTON 

(Floundering) 
Isn't that a little strong? 

Dorothy 
The truth is always strong. I'm not blaming you, 
Billy. You've exerted an influence: it was the only 
influence you could exert. 



S HELTON 

(Gasping) 



A bad one? 



Dorothy 
The best that was in you. 

S HELTON 

Which is to say, the worst? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 23 

Dorothy 
I suppose so. 

Shelton 
And Cheever? 

Dorothy 

Another impulse. {She pauses.) Billy, I never 
knew until to-day how much bad there was in me. 
I didn't even know it when I began to go around 
with Cheever. 

Shelton 
{Bewildered) 
Do you call him a good impulse? 

Dorothy 

I don't know. I didn't know whether it was the 
bad in him calling to the bad in me, or that which 
was capable of being reformed in him calling to the 
good in me! Which was it? There's bad in me, 
and there must be some good left in me. But what 
am I? A good woman or a bad woman? I don't 
know. 

Shelton 
(After a moments reflection) 
You made me stop gambling. 

Dorothy 
Yes. 



24 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Shelton 



And drinking. 

Yes. 

Why? 



Dorothy 
Shelton 



I 

Dorothy f 

I wasn't trying to reform you. f 



Shelton 

No? 

Dorothy i 

That came to me to-day. I used to talk to you j 

about your bad habits because, well, because I liked \ 

to talk about such things. I liked to hear you tell 
about them. 



Shelton 
{After a paused 
Anyhow, I'm reformed. 

Dorothy 
Yes. 

Shelton 
What are you going to do about it? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 25 

Dorothy 

What can I do about it? I can't influence you any 
more: there isn't any me left. I look into myself, and 
I see oceans of Billy Shelton, nothing but Billy Shel- 
ton, as far as the eye can reach, and here and there, 
tossed by the waves, a little wreckage, such pathetic 
wreckage, that used' to be something better! Billy, 
to-day I am what you have made me. 

Shelton 

( Thunderstruck) 
Which is to say that it was / who eloped with 
Cheever ! 

Dorothy 
That's what it amounts to. 

Shelton 
Well then, what I want to know is, why didn't 
it go through? 

Dorothy 
What do you mean? 

Shelton 
If the me in you made you run off with Cheever, 
what brought you back? 

Dorothy 
{After a pause) 
Nothing brought me back. 



26 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

Shelton 

No? 

Dorothy 

Cheever sent me back. {There is a long pause.) 
We had arranged to meet at the station. I met him. 
We were to send our trunks ahead to Chicago. Mine 
left yesterday. I was ready to go through with it to 
the bitter end, but he 

Shelton 
He? 

Dorothy 
He changed his mind at the last minute. 

Shelton 
{After deliberation) 
Why? 

Dorothy 
That's what I've been asking myself. 

Shelton 
Did he give any reason? 

Dorothy 
He didn't have to. Am I a good woman or a bad 
woman? Cheever knows. I'm not what he thought 
I was. That's why he didn't elope with me. He 
found out at the last minute. 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 27 

Shelton 
That you were a good woman ? 

Dorothy 
Perhaps. 

Shelton 
Or that you were a bad one? 

Dorothy 
I'd give anything to know. Cheever knows. 

Shelton 
And he won't tell. 

Dorothy 
No. 

Shelton 
{After a thoughtful pause) 
I like his nerve! (Dorothy looks at him in mute 
inquiry.) My wife not good enough for him to elope 
with! {She does not answer.) Aren't you pretty 
enough? {She shrugs her shoulders.) Or clever 
enough? {He surveys her critically.) Is that some- 
thing new you're wearing? 



Dorothy 
Yes. I bought it to-day. Do you like it? 



28 A QUESTION OF MORALITY 

S HELTON 

{Nodding his approval) 

Yes. Looks well on you. ( There is a knock at the 
door,) Come in. 

The Butler 
{Entering with a letter on a salver) 
Messenger just brought a note, sir. 

Dorothy 
Oh! 

S HELTON 

{Glances at her. After an instant* s hesitation, 
she nods her permission. He takes it, slowly opens 
the envelope, and reads the contents. The Butler 
waits. Shelton notices him.) Well, why are you 
waiting? 

The Butler 
Is there an answer, sir? 

Skelton 
An answer? No. 

(The Butler goes. In the ensuing silence 
Shelton tears up the note.) 

Dorothy 
My farewell? {He nods.) Well? 



A QUESTION OF MORALITY 29 

S HELTON 

{Slowly, as if stating a mathematical problem) 
Whatever you are, good or bad, doesn't matter. 
You've reformed me so thoroughly that you won't 
go far wrong in my company — and you're going to 
have lots of it. 

Dorothy 
{Submissively) 
Yes, Billy. 

Shelton 

You may make slips: I expect you to make slips, 
but while I'm here to watch you they won't be bad 
ones. 

Dorothy 
No, Billy. 

Shelton 

And before I forget it: if you have any more out- 
rageous impulses, they will be in my direction. You 
understand? {She nods. He folds her comfortably 
in his arms, and smiles happily.) From now on, I'm 
prepared to enjoy life. 



THE CURTAIN FALLS 



CONFESSIONAL 

A PLAY 



CHARACTERS 

Robert Baldwin. 
Martha, his wife. 
John, his son. 
EviE, his daughter. 
Marshall. 
A Maid. 



CONFESSIONAL 

/T is a rather hot and sultry Sunday afternoon, 
and the sun overhead and the baked clay under 
foot are merciless. In the distance, lowering 
clouds give promise of coming relief. And at the par- 
lor window of a trim little cottage the Baldwin family 
is anxiously awaiting the return of its head. 

John, the son, an average young man of twenty- 
seven, is smoking a pipe as philosophically as if this day 
were in no whit more momentous than any other. But 
his mother, trying to compose herself with her knitting, 
has made little progress in the last half hour; and EviE, 
his sister, takes no pains to conceal her nervousness. 

There is a tense pause. It seems as if none of them 
likes to break the silence. For the tenth time in ten 
minutes, EviE goes to the window and looks out along 
the sultry road. 

Martha 
It's time he was home. 

EviE 
Yes, mother. 

Martha 
I do hope he hasn't forgotten his umbrella: he has 
such a habit of leaving it behind him 

33 



34 




CONFESSIONAL 
EviE 


Yes, 


mother. 





Martha 
It might rain. Don't you think so, Evie? {With- 
out waiting for an answer she goes to the window and 
looks out anxiously.) The sky Is so dark. {She 
starts.) There was a flash of lightning! (John 
rises slowly^ moves to a center tabUj and knocks the 
ashes out of his pipe. His mother turns to him.) 
John, run Into your father's room and see that the win- 
dows are closed. There's a good boy. 

John 
RIght-o. {He goes.) 

Evie 

{After a pause) 

Mother. {There is no answer.) Mother! (Mrs. 
Baldwin turns slowly.) What does Mr. Gresham 
want with him? Has he done anything wrong? 

Martha 
{Proudly) 
Your father? No, Evie. 

Evie 
Then why did Mr. Gresham send for him? 

Martha 
He wanted to talk to him. 



CONFESSIONAL 35 

EviE 
What about? Mr. Gresham has been arrested: 
they're going to try him to-morrow. What can he 
want with father? 

Martha 
Your father will have to testify. 

EviE 
But he's going to testify against Mr. Gresham. Why 
should Mr. Gresham want to see him? 

Martha 
I don't know, Evie. You know, your father doesn't 
say much about his business affairs. {She pauses.) I 
didn't know there was anything wrong with the bank 
until I saw it in the papers. Your father wouldn't 
tell me to draw my money out — he thought it wasn't 
loyal to Mr. Gresham. (Evie nods.) I did it of my 
own accord — against his wishes — when I suspected 

Evie 

{After a pause) 

Do you think that father had anything to do with — 
with {She does not like to say it.) 

Martha 
With the wrecking of the bank? You know him 
better than that, Evie. 



36 CONFESSIONAL 

EviE 
But did he know what was going on? You know 
what the papers are saying 

Martha 
They haven't been fair to him, Evie. 

EviE 
Perhaps not. But they said he must have been a 
fool not to know. They said that only he could have 
known — he and Mr. Gresham. Why didn't he stop 
it? 

Martha 
He was acting under Mr. Gresham's orders. 

Evie 

( Contemptuously ) 
Mr. Gresham's orders ! Did he have to follow them ? 

Martha 

{After a pause) 

Evie, I don't believe your father ever did a wrong 

thing in his life — not if he knew it was wrong. He 

found out by accident — found out what Mr. Gresham 

- was doing. 

Evie 
How do you know that? 



i 



CONFESSIONAL 37 

Martha 

I don't know it: I suspect it — something he said. 
{Eagerly.) You see, Evie, he cant have done any- 
thing wrong. They haven't indicted him. 

Evie 

' (Slowly) 
No. They didn't indict him — because they want 
him to testify against Mr. Gresham. That's little con- 
solation, mother. 

(John re-enters.) 

Martha 
(Seizing the relief) 
Were the windows open, John? 

John 

(Shortly) 

I've closed them. (He crosses to the table j takes up 
his pipe J and refills it.) Look here, mater: what does 
Gresham want with the governor? 

Evie 
(Nodding) 
I've just been asking that. 

Martha 
I don't know, John. 



38 CONFESSIONAL 

John 
Didn't you ask him? (As she does not answer.) 
Well? 

Martha 
Yes, I asked him. He didn't say, John. (Anx- 
iously.) I don't think he knew himself. 

John 
(After an instant's thought) 
I was talking to the assistant cashier yesterday. 

EviE 
Donovan ? 

John 

Yes, Donovan. I saw him up at the Athletic Club. 
He said that nobody had any idea that there was any- 
thing wrong until the crash came. Donovan had been 
there eight years. He thought he was taken care of 
for the rest of his life. He had gotten married on the 
strength of it. And then, one morning, there was a 
sign up on the door. It was like a bolt out of a clear 
sky. 

EviE 
And father? 

John 
He says the governor must have known. He'll swear 
nobody else did. You see, father was closer to Gresham 



CONFESSIONAL 39 

than anyone else. That puts him in a nice position, 
doesn't it? 

Martha 
What do you mean, John? 

John 
The governor the only witness against John Gresham 
— and me named after him! John Gresham Baldwin, 
at your service ! 

Martha 
Your father will do his duty, John, no matter what 
comes of it. 

John 

(Shortly) 

I know it. And I'm not sure but what it's right. 
(They look at him inquiringly.) There's John 
Gresham, grown rich in twenty years, and the gover- 
nor pegging along as his secretary at sixty dollars a 
week! 

Martha 
Your father never complained. 

John 

No; that's just the pity of it. He didn't complain. 
Well, he'll have his chance to-morrow. He'll go on 
the stand, and when he's through, they'll put John 



40 CONFESSIONAL 

Gresham where he won't be able to hurt anybody for 
a while. Wasn't satisfied with underpaying his em- 
ployes; had to rob his depositors! Serves him jolly 
well right! 

Martha 
{Rather timidly) 
I don't think your father would like you to talk that 
way, John. 

John 

{Shrugs his shoulders with a contemptuous: 
"Humph!") 

Martha 
Your father has nothing against Mr. Gresham. He 
will tell the truth — nothing but the truth. 

John 

Did you think I expected him to lie? Not father! 
He'll tell the truth: just the truth. It'll be plenty! 

EviE 
{At the window) 
There's father now! 

{There is the click of a latchkey outside. 
EviE makes for the door.) 

Martha 

Evie! You stay here: let me talk to him fir$t. 
(Martha hurries out. John and Evie 
look at each other.) 



4 



CONFESSIONAL 41 

John 
Wonder what Gresham had to say to him? (Evie 
shrugs her shoulders. He turns away to the window.) 
It's started to rain. 

Evie 

Yes. 

{There is a pause. Suddenly John crosses 
to the door, and flings it open.) 

John 
Hullo, dad! 

Baldwin 

{Coming in, followed by Martha) 

How are you, my boy? {He shakes hands with 
John.) Evie! {He kisses her.) 

Martha 
You are sure your shoes aren't wet, Robert ? 

Baldwin 
{Shaking his head) 
I took the car. Not a drop on me. See ? 

{He passes his hands over his sleeves. He 
goes to a chair: sits. There is an awkward 
pause.) 

John 
Well, dad? Don't you think it's about time you 

An lie cnrMot-rii-nnr r 



told us something? 



42 CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 
Told you something? I don't understand, John. 

John 
People have been talking about you — saying 
things 

Baldwin 
What kind of things, John? 

John 
You can imagine: rotten things. And I couldn't 
contradict them. 

Baldwin 
Why not, John? 

John 
Because I didn't know. 

Baldwin 
Did you have to know ? Wasn't it enough that you 
knew your father? 

John 
{After a pause) 
I beg your pardon, sir. 

Baldwin 
It was two days before the smash-up that I found out 
what Gresham was doing. {He pauses. They are 



CONFESSIONAL 43 

listening intently.) I told him he would have to make 
good. He said he couldn't 

EviE 
{As he does not continue) 
And what happened? 

Baldwin 

I told him he would have to do the best he could — 
and the first step would be to close the bank. He 
didn't want to do that. 

Martha 
But he did it. 

Baldwin 
I made him do it. He was angry — ^very angry, but 
I had the whip hand. 

EviE 
The papers didn't mention that. 

& Baldwin 

I didn't think it was necessary to tell them. 

Martha 

But you let your name rest under a cloud mean- 
while. 



44 CONFESSIONAL 

X 

Baldwin 

It will be cleared to-morrow, won't it? {He 
pauses.) To-day Gresham sent for me. The trial be- 
gins in tAventy-four hours. I'm the only witness against 
him. He asked — you can guess what 

John 
{Indignantly) 
He wanted you to lie to save his skin, eh ? Wanted 
you to perjure yourself? 

Baldwin 
That wouldn't be necessary, John. He just wanted 
me to have an attack of poor memory. If I tell all I 
know, John Gresham will go to jail — no power on 
earth can save him from it. But he wants me to for- 
get a little — just the essential things. When they ques- 
tion me I can answer '* I don't remember." They can't 
prove I do remember. And there you are. 

John 
It would be a lie, dad! 

Baldwin 
{Smiling) 

Of course. But it's done every day. And they 
couldn't touch me — any more than they could convict 
him. 



CONFESSIONAL 45 

Martha 
(Quivering with indignation) 
How dared he — how dared he ask such a thing ! 

EviE 
What did you say, father? 

Baldwin 
{Smiling, and raising his eyes to John's) 
Well, son, what would you have said ? 

John 
I'd have told him to go to the devil! 

Baldwin 
{Nodding) 
I did. 

John 
Bully for you, governor! 

Martha 
{Half to herself) 
I knew! I knew! 

Baldwin 
I didn't use your words, John. He's too old a friend 
of mine for that. But I didn't mince matters any. He 
understood what I meant. 



46 CONFESSIONAL 

EviE 
And what did he say then ? 



Baldwin 
There wasn't much to say. You see, he wasn't sur- 
prised. He's known me for thirty-five years, and, well, 
{with simple pride) anybody who's known me for 
thirty-five years doesn't expect me to haggle with my 
conscience. If it had been anybody else than John 
Gresham I would have struck him across the face. But 
John Gresham and I were boys together. We worked 
side by side. And I've been in his employ ever since 
he started in for himself. He is desperate — he doesn't 
know what he is doing — or he wouldn't have offered 
me money. 

John 
{Furious) 
Offered you money, dad? 

Baldwin 

He'd put it aside, ready for the emergency. If they 

don't convict him, he'll hand it over to me. The law 

can't stop him. But if I live until to-morrow night, 

they will convict him! {He sighs.) God knows I 

want no share in bringing about his punishment 

{He breaks off. EviE pats his hand silently.) Young 
man and old man, I've worked with him or for him 
the best part of my life. I'm loyal to him — I've always 



CONFESSIONAL 47 

been loyal to him — but when John Gresham ceases to 
be an honest man, John Gresham and I part company ! 

Martha 
{Weeping softly) 
Robert ! Robert ! 

Baldwin 
Fve got only a few years to live, but I'll live those 
as I've lived the rest of my life. I'll go to my grave 
clean! {He rises presently, goes to the window, and 
looks out.) The rain's stopped, hasn't it? 

EviE 
{Following him and taking his hand) 
Yes, father. 

Baldwin 
It'll be a fine day to-morrow. 

( There is a pause. ) 

John 
Dad. 

Baldwin 
Yes? 

John 
What did Gresham offer you? 



48 CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 
( Simply ) 
A hundred thousand dollars. 

EviE 
What?! 



Martha 



Robert! 



Baldwin 

He put it aside for me without anybody knowing it. 
It's out of his private fortune, he says. It's not the 
depositors' money — as if that made any difference. 

EviE 

{As if hypnotized) 
He offered you a hundred thousand dollars? 



Baldwin 

{Smiling at her amazement) 

I could have had it for the one word " Yes " 
even for nodding my head — or a look of the eyes. 

John 
How — how do you know he meant it? 

Baldwin 
His word is good. 



CONFESSIONAL 49 

John 
Even now? 

Baldwin 

He never lied to me, John. {He pauses.) I sup- 
pose my eyes must have shown something I didn't feel. 
He noticed it. He unlocked a drawer and showed me 
the hundred thousand. 

John 
In cash? 

Baldwin 
In thousand-dollar bills. They were genuine: I 
examined them. 

EviE 

{Slowly) 
And for that he wants you to say " I don't remem- 
ber." 

Baldwin 
{Smiling) 
Just that: three words only. 

John 
But you won't? 

Baldwin 

{Shaking his head) 

Those three words would choke me if I tried to speak 
them. For some other man, perhaps, it would be easy. 



50 CONFESSIONAL 

But for me? All of my past would rise up and strike 
me in the face. It would mean to the world that for 
years I had been living a He : that I was not the honor- 
able man I thought I was. When John Gresham 
offered me money, I was angry. But when I rejected 
it, and he showed no surprise, then I was pleased. It 
was a compliment, don't you think so? 

John 

(Slowly) 
Rather an expensive compliment. 

Baldwin 
Eh? 

John 
A compliment which cost you a hundred thousand 
dollars. 

Baldwin 
A compliment which was worth a hundred thou- 
sand dollars. I've never had that much money to spend 
in my life, John, but If I had I couldn't imagine a finer 
way to spend it. 

John 
(Slowly) 
Yes. I suppose so. 



CONFESSIONAL 51 

Martha 
{After a pause) 
Will the depositors lose much, Robert? 

Baldwin 
{Emphatically.) 
The depositors will not lose a cent. 

EviE 
(Surprised) 
But the papers said 

Baldwin 

{Interrupting) 

They had to print something : they guessed. / know. 
/ tell you. 

Martha 
But you never said so before. 

Baldwin 
I left that for Gresham. It will come out to- 
morrow. 

John 

Why to-morrow? Why didn't you say so before? 
The papers asked you often enough. 

Baldwin 
Nothing forced me to answer, John. 



52 CONFESSIONAL 

John 

That wasn't your real reason, was it, dad? You 
knew the papers would keep right on calling you 
names. (Baldwin does not answer. John's face 
lights up with sudden understanding.) You wanted to 
let Gresham announce it himself: because it will be 
something in his favor! Eh? 

Baldwin 
Yes. . . . We were able to save something from 
the wreck, Gresham and I. It was more than I had 
expected — almost twice as much — and with what 
Gresham has it will be enough. 

EviE 
Even without the hundred thousand? 

(Baldwin does not answer.) 

John 
{Insistently) 
Without the money that Gresham had put away 
for you? 

Baldwin 
Yes. I didn'<- know there was the hundred thou- 
sand until to-day. Gresham didn't tell me. We 
reckoned without it. 

EviE 
Oh! 



CONFESSIONAL 53 

John 
And you made both ends meet? 

Baldwin 

Quite easily. {He smiles.) Marshall is running 
the re-organization; Marshall of the Third National. 
He hasn't the least idea that it's going to turn out so 
well. 

{There is a pause.) 

John 
They're going to punish Gresham, aren't they? 

Baldwin 
I'm afraid so. 

John 
What for? 

Baldwin 
Misappropriating the funds of the 



John 

{Interrupting) 

Oh, I know that. But what crime has he com- 
mitted ? 

Baldwin 
That's a crime, John. 



54 CONFESSIONAL 

EviE 
But if nobody loses anything by it? 

Baldwin 
It's a crime nevertheless. 

John 
And they're going to punish him for it! 

Baldwin 
They can't let him go, John. He's too conspicuous. 

John 

Do you think that's right, governor? 

Baldwin 
My opinion doesn't matter, John. 

John 
But what do you think? 

Baldwin 
I think — I think that I'm sorry for John Gresham — 
terribly sorry. 

John 
(Slowly) 
It's nothing but a technicalit5% dad. Nobody loses 
a cent. It's rather hard on Gresham, I say. 



CONFESSIONAL 55 

Baldwin 
{After a -pause) 
Yes, John. 

EviE 

(Timidly) 
Would it be such an awful thing, father, if you let 
him off? 

Baldwin 
(Smilinff) 
I wish I could, Evie. But I'm not the judge. 

EviE 
No, but 

Baldwin 
But what? 

Evie 
You're the only witness against him. 

Baldwin 
(Nonplussed) 
Evie! 

John 

She's right, governor. 

Baldwin 
You too, John ? 



56 CONFESSIONAL 

John 

It's going to be a nasty mess if they put John 
Gresham in jail — with your own son named after him! 
It's going to be pleasant for me! John Gresham 
Baldwin ! 

Martha 

{After a pause) 

Robert, I'm not sure I understood what you said 
before. What did Mr. Gresham want you to do for 
him? 

Baldwin 
Get him off to-morrow. 

Martha 
You could do that? 

Baldwin 
Yes. 

Martha 
How? 

Baldwin 

By answering " I don't remember " when they ask 
me dangerous questions. 

Martha 
Oh! And you do remember? 



CONFESSIONAL 57 

Baldwin 
Yes. Nearly everything. 

John 
No matter what they ask you? 

> Baldwin 
I can always refresh my memory. You see, I have 
notes. 

John 
But without those notes you wouldn't remember? 

Baldwin 
What do you mean, John? 

John 
{Without answering) 

As a matter of fact, you will have to rely on your 
notes nearly altogether, won't you? 

Baldwin 
Everybody else does the same thing. 

John 

Then it won't be far from the truth if you say " I 
don't remember " ? 

Martha 
I don't see that Mr. Gresham is asking so much of 
you. 



58 CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 
Martha! 

Martha 
Robert, Vm as honorable as you are- 



Baldwin j 

That goes without saying, Martha. 

Martha 
It doesn't seem right to me to send an old friend 
to jail. (As he speaks she holds up her hand.) Now 
don't interrupt me! I've been thinking. The day 
John was baptized: when Mr. Gresham stood sponsor 
for him: how proud we were! And when we came 
home from the church you said — do you remember 
what you said, Robert? 

Baldwin 
No. What was it? 

Martha 
You said, " Martha, may our son always live up to 
the name which we have given him!" Do you re- 
member that? 



Baldwin 



Yes — dimly. 



John 
Ha! Only dimly, governor? 



CONFESSIONAL 59 

Baldwin 
What do you mean, John? 

Martha 
(Giving John no opportunity to answer) 
It would be sad-rvery sad — if the name of John 
Gresham, our son's name, should come to grief through 
you, Robert. 

Baldwin 
{After a pause) 

Martha, are you telling me to accept the bribe money 
that John Gresham offered me? 

EviE 
Why do you call it bribe money, father? 

Baldwin 

{Bitterly) 

Why indeed? Gresham had a prettier name for it. 

He said that he had underpaid me all these years. 

You know, I was getting only sixty dollars a week 

when the crash came 

John 
{Impatiently) 
Yes, yes? 



6o CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 

He said a hundred thousand represented the dif- 
ference between what he had paid me and what I had 
actually been worth to him. 

Martha 
That's no less than true, Robert. You've worked 
for him very faithfully. 

Baldwin 
He said that if he had paid me what he should have, 
I would have put by more than a hundred thousand 
by now. 

John 
That's so, isn't it, dad? 

Baldwin 
Who knows? I never asked him to raise my salary. 
When he raised it it was of his own accord. ( There is 
a pause. He looks around.) Well, what do 5^ou think 
of it, Evie? 

EviE 
(Hesitantly) 
If you go on the stand to-morrow 

Baldwin 
Yes? 



CONFESSIONAL 6i 

EviE 
And they put John Gresham in jail, what will people 



say? 



Baldwin 

They will say I have done my duty, Evie; no more 
and no less. 

EviE 
Willxhtyl 

Baldwin 
Why, what should they say ?' 

Evie 
/ don't think so, of course, but other people might 
say that you had turned traitor to your best friend. 

Baldwin 
You don't mean that, Evie? 

Evie 

When they find out that they haven't lost any money 
— when John Gresham tells them that he will pay back 
every cent — then they won't want him to go to jail. 
They'll feel sorry for him. 

Baldwin 
Yes, I believe that. I hope so. 



62 CONFESSIONAL 

John 

And they won't feel too kindly disposed towards 
the man who helps put him in jail. 

Martha 
They'll say you went back on an old friend, Robert. 

John 
When you pull out your notes in court, to be sure 

of sending him to jail ! 

(He breaks off with a snort.) 

EviE 
And Mr. Gresham hasn't done anything really 
wrong. 

John 
It's a technicality, that's what it is. Nobody loses a 
cent. Nobody wants to see him punished. 

EviE 
Except you, father. 



Martha 

{After a pause) 
I believe in being merciful, Robert. 



John 
Yes. And you're willing to jail the man after 
whom you named your son! , 






CONFESSIONAL 63 

Baldwin 
Merciful ? 

Martha 
Mr. Gresham has always been very good to you. 

{There is another pause. Curiously enough, 
they do not seem to be able to meet each 
other s eyes.) 

Martha 
Ah, well ! What are you going to do now, Robert ? 

Baldwin 
What do you mean ? 

Martha 
You have been out of work since the bank closed. 

Baldwin 
{Shrugging his shoulders) 
Oh, I'll find a position. 

Martha 
{Shaking her head) 
At your age ? 

Baldwin 
It's the man that counts. 



64 CONFESSIONAL | 

Martha I 

Yes. You said that a month ago. ■ 

John 
I heard from Donovan 

Baldwin 
(Quickly) 
What did you hear? 

John 
He's gone with the Third National, you know, 

Baldwin 
Yes; he's helping with the re-organization. 

John 
They wouldn't take you on there 



Baldwin 

Their staff was full. They couldn't very well offer 
me a position as a clerk. 

John 
That was what they told you. 

Baldwin 
Wasn't it true? 



CONFESSIONAL 65 

John 

(Shakes his head) 
Marshall said he wouldn't employ a man who was 
just as guilty as John Gresham. 

Baldwin 
But I'm not ! 

John 
Who knows it? 

Baldwin 
Everybody will to-morrow ! 

John 
Will they believe you? Or will they think you're 
trying to save your own skin ? 

Baldwin 
I found out only a day before the smash. 

John 
Who will believe that? 

Baldwin 
They will have to! 

John 

How will you make them? I'm afraid you'll find 
that against you wherever you go, governor. Your 



66 CONFESSIONAL 

testifying against John Gresham won't make things any 
better. If you ever get another job, it will be with him! 
{This is a startling idea to Baldwin, who shows his 
surprise.) If Gresham doesn't go to jail, he'll start in 
business again, won't he? And he can't offer you any- 
thing less than a partnership. 

Baldwin j 

A partnership ? \ 

i 

John 
{With meaning) ! 

With the hundred thousand capital j^ou could put . 

in the business, dad. 

Baldwin j 

John! i 



John 
Of course, the capital doesn't matter. He'll owe you 
quite a debt of gratitude besides. 

( There is a pause.) 

Martha 
A hundred thousand would mean a great deal to us, 
Robert. If you don't find a position soon John will 
have to support us. 

John 
On thirty dollars a week, dad. 



CONFESSIONAL ^j 

EviE 
That won't go very far. 

Martha 
It's not fair to John. 

John 
{Angrily) 
Oh, don't bother about me. 

(EviE begins to weep.) 

John 
Look here, governor, you've said nothing to the 
papers. If you say nothing more to-morrow what does 
it amount to but sticking to your friend? It's the 
square thing to do — he'd do as much for you. 

Baldwin 

{Looks appealingly from one face to another. They 
are averted. Then:) 

You — ^you want me to take this money ? ( There is 
no answer.) Say "Yes," one of you. {Still no an- 
swer.) Or "No." {J long pause. Finally.) I could- 
n't go into partnership with Gresham. 

Martha 
{Promptly) 
Why not? 



68 CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 
People wouldn't trust him. 

John 
Then you could go into business with someone else, 
dad. A hundred thousand is a lot of money. 

Baldwin 
(Walks to the window. Looks cut) 
God knows I never thought this day would come! 
I know — I know no matter how you try to excuse it — 
I know that if I take this money I do a dishonorable 
thing. And you know it! You, and you, and you! 
All of you ! Come, admit it ! 

John 
(Resolutely) 
Nobody '11 ever hear of it. 

Baldwin 
But amongst ourselves, John ! Whatever we are to 
the world, let us be honest with each other, the four 
of us ! Well ? (His glance travels from John to EviE, 
whose head is bowed; from her to his wife, who is 
apparently busied with her knitting. He raises Mar- 
tha's head: looks into the eyes. He shudders.) 
Shams ! Liars ! Hypocrites ! Thieves ! And I no bet- 
ter than any of you! We have seen our souls naked, 
and they stink to Almighty Heaven ! Well, why don't 
you answer me? 



CONFESSIONAL 69 

Martha 
{Feebly) 
It's not wrong, Robert. 

Baldwin 
It's not right. 

John 
{Facing him steadily) 
A hundred thousand is a lot of money, dad. 

Baldwin 
{Nodding slowly) 
You can look into my eyes now, my son, can't you? 

John 
{Without moving) 
Dad: why did you refuse? Wasn't it because you 
were afraid of what we'd say? 

Baldwin 
{After a long pause) 
Yes, John. 

John 
Well, nobody will ever know it. 

Baldwin 
Except the four of us. 



JO CONFESSIONAL 

John 

Yes — father. 

{Abruptly they separate. EviE weeps in 
silence. Martha, being less emotional, blows 
her nose noisily, and fumbles with her knit- 
ting. John, having nothing better to do, 
scowls out of the window, and Baldwin, 
near the fireplace, clenches and unclenches his 
hands. ) 

John 
Someone's coming. 

Martha 
{Raising her head) 
Who is it? 

John 
I can't see. {With sudden apprehension.) It looks 
like Marshall. 

Baldwin 
Marshall ? 

{The door-bell rings. They are motionless 
as a Maid enters at one side and goes out the 
other. The Maid re-enters.) 

The Maid 
A gentleman to see you, sir. 



CONFESSIONAL 71 

Baldwin 
{Pulling himself together) 
Who, me? 

The MAii> 

Yes, sir. 

{She hands him a card on a salver.) 

Baldwin 
It is Marshall. 

Martha 
The President of the Third National ? 

Baldwin 
Yes. What does he want here? 

The Maid 
Shall I show him in, sir? 

Baldwin 
Yes. Yes. By all means. 

{The Maid goes out.) 

Martha 

{Crossing to him quickly) 

Robert ! Be careful of what you say : you're to go on 
the stand to-morrow. 



72 CONFESSIONAL 

Baldwin 
(Nervously) 
Yes, yes. I'll look out. 

(The Maid re-enters, opening the door for 
Marshall.) 

Marshall 
(Coming into the room very buoyantly) 
Well, well, spending the afternoon indoors? How 
are you, Mrs. Baldwin? (He shakes hands cordially.) 
And you, Baldwin? 

Martha 
We were just going out. Come, Evie. 

Marshall 

Oh, you needn't go on my account. You can hear 
what I have to say. (He turns to the head of the 
family.) Baldwin, if you feel like coming around to 
the Third National some time this week, you'll find a 
position waiting for you. 

Baldwin 
(Thunderstruck) 
Do you mean that, Mr. Marshall? 

Marshall 
(Smiling) 
I wouldn't say it if I didn't. (He continues more 
seriously.) I was in to see Gresham this afternoon. 



CONFESSIONAL 73 

He told me about the offer he had made you. But he 
knew that no amount of money would make you do 
something you thought wrong. Baldwin, he paid you 
the supreme compliment: rather than go to trial with 
you to testify against him, he confessed. 

Baldwin 
{Sinking into a chair) 
Confessed ! 

Marshall 

Told the whole story. {He turns to Martha.) I 
can only say to you what every man will be saying 
to-morrow: how highly I honor and respect your hus- 
band ! How sincerely ^ 

Martha 
{^Seizing his hand piteously) 
Please ! Please ! Can't you see he's crying ? 

THE CURTAIN FALLS SLOWLY 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

AN UNROMANTIC COMEDY 



CHARACTERS 

Blanche. 

Ralph. 

Belden. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

^ M fO call her pretty, and say no more, would be 

m an insult. She is young, twenty or twenty- 
one, and the determined chin, the challenging 
eyes, the resolute mouth, bespeak character first — beauty 
afterwards. One might describe the face by saying that 
it is beautiful as a matter of course — because there is 
so much else to it, because intelligence, comprehension, 
sympathy, beautify the features in which they reside. 

Aristocrat? Not in the sense that the word was once 
used. She is the healthy, high-class American girl, who 
cares less for her ancestors than for her descendants. She 
will cheer herself hoarse at a football game in the after- 
noon, and forget the world and all else in the magic 
of a symphony in the evening — because she thinks she 
understands both — and understands neither — and en- 
joys life excellently well anyhow. 

The captiously inclined will lay weight upon her 
frivolities, for, being a healthy animal, she must have 
her play. The over-educated, for whose opinion no 
one cares, will say she is superficial — which is per- 
fectly true. And the superficial, whose opinion every- 
one repeats, zvill say that she is exceedingly good com- 
pany — which is quite as true. But that is as it 
should be. 

She has intimate friends, whom she changes with 

77 



78 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

commendable regularity, and she has enemies, whom she 
hates whole-heartedly and with abiding satisfaction. 
And she is human, very, very human. 

As the curtain rises she is sitting on a sofa in a 
pleasant corner just outside of the ballroom in which 
eighty or a hundred couples are conscientiously 
threading the mazes of the latest modern dance. 
Through the open doorway come attenuated strains of 
music — and the rustle of silk — and the shuffle of danc- 
ing slippers — and the eddying hum of chatter. But she 
is listening to none of these. She is listening to the 
very earnest young man beside her. And she feels 
something of pity — and something of resentment — and 
more than something of understanding. For Ralph 
is certainly not an unattractive fellow, and when he 
speaks of love, as he has been doing for the last few 
minutes, his voice has gentle inflections and subtle 
catches which are decidedly pleasing — not least to the 
girl who is the object of his affection. He has just 
asked her a question — the question — and she pauses be- 
fore replying. He whispers: 

Ralph 
Well, Blanche? 

Blanche 

{Shaking her head) 
Ralph, it's too late. 

Ralph 
But 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 79 

Blanche 

I didn't intend to tell you so soon: I'm engaged to 
him. 

Ralph 
Engaged.^ 

Blanche 
{Looking away) 
For the last month. 

Ralph 

Oh, I thought so! I suspected it! I knew that 
would happen! 

Blanche 
Why, Ralph! 

Ralph 
{Bitterly) 

I never had a chance. I should have known it from 
the start! When you had to choose between us, be- 
tween me and my employer, between the little I 
offered you and a town house and a country house 
and 

Blanche 
{Interrupting indignantly) 
Ralph ! How dare you ! 



8o THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Ralph 

Oh, I know you don't think of monej^, but it makes 
a difference. It's got to make a difference. 

Blanche 
It makes no difference here, Ralph. 

Ralph 
No? We're pretty good friends, aren't we? Can 
you look at me and tell me 

Blanche 

{Interrupting) 

That I would marry him if he didn't have a cent? 
Yes. You don't know the man, Ralph. You don't 
give him credit for what he has. 

Ralph 
After I've worked for him for four jxars? I give 
him credit, never fear! Two millions — or perhaps 
three 

Blanche 

That was not what I meant — you know that. He 
is an exceptional man — a big man — a just man 

Ralph 

Who will treat you more as his daughter than his 
wife. He's old enough, isn't he? 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 8i 

Blanche 
That's not fair, Ralph. He's thirty-seven. 

Ralph 

Ten years older than I. Blanche, Blanche, won't 
you listen to me? {She sighs. He seizes the oppor- 
tunity.) Don't you remember? Two years ago? 

Blanche 
Of course I remember, Ralph. 

Ralph 

That was before you had met Belden. You said you 
would marry me. 

Blanche 
I meant ft then. 

Ralph 
So — so things have changed? 



Blanche 

(Slowly) 



Yes, Ralph. 



Ralph 
I suppose I was a fool. I wasn't making much: 
still less than I am making now, and I didn't see how 
I could marry you and keep my self-respect. 



82 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Blanche 
I would have been willing. 

Ralph 

I knew that: you said so then. But I didn't dare. 
I didn't feel it was the right thing by you. I felt the 
only fair thing to do was to release you from your 
engagement. 

Blanche 
I didn't ask you to do it, Ralph. 

Ralph 
No. {He pauses.) Blanche, can't wt- go back? 
Back to where we left off? 

Blanche 
After I am engaged to marry another man? 

Ralph 
Whom you don't love. 

Blanche 
Whom I do love. . . . Ralph, even if it hurts you, 
make up your mind that I love him, the man he is, even 
more than I ever loved you. {She pauses.) Be a good 
loser, Ralph. 

Ralph 

The flowers, the automobiles, the opera—they had 
nothing to do with it ? You know, when we went out 
together, you and I, we rode in the street cars. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 83 

Blanche 
I enjoyed myself just as much, Ralph. 

Ralph 
I wonder! If I had had money! If I had been able 
to offer you what he offers you 

Blanche 
You would have married me two years ago. 

Ralph 
Yes: and you would marry me to-day. 

{The tall, powerful figure of Geoffrey 
Belden has appeared in the doorway. Mas- 
terful, self-contained, but giving the impreS' 
sion of immense reserve force, he enters as 
if he were looking for a quiet place to idle 
away a few minutes. A self-made man, if 
ever there was one, with the confidence, the 
absolute assurance that comes with success 
written large over his features, Ralph's 
voice catches his ear. He turns toward him. 
Then, as he gathers the drift of his words, 
he becomes motionless and listens — listens 
shamelessly. 

His entrance has been unobserved: the 
others are intent in their conversation.) 

Ralph 
Oh, I know how fair and square you are. I know 
how little you care about such things. But somewhere, 



84 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

somewhere in the depths of j^our soul something is 
saying to you, '' I am marrying a millionaire! He is 
Ralph's employer. He can buy out Ralph a dozen 
times, a hundred times, and never feel it. I am doing 
well for myself! " 

Blanche 
(Indignantly) 
If you think that 

Ralph 
(Interrupting) 

I know that's not why you accepted him, but it 
counted — it had to count. When you spent an even- 
ing with him you enjoyed it, but you didn't stop to 
figure out how much of that enjoyment came from the 
things his money gave you. You left the house in the 
automobile his money placed at your service. You 
enjoyed the play, because his money bought the best 
seats in the theater. You had a little dinner afterwards, 
in the most expensive restaurant he could find. You 
had a perfect evening. When you thanked him for it, 
you meant it. But you didn't say to yourself " His 
money has given me nine-tenths of it — and I enjoyed 
his company — of course/^ You didn't stop to think 
that you would have enjoyed such an evening with 
any man. 

Blanche 
(Rather sharply) 
Ralph, why do you say this to me? 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 85 

Ralph 
Why not? 

Blanche 

It's silly. {He tries to interrupt. She will not 
allow it.) I am not a child. I know why I'm marry- 
ing him — you don't. {He laughs derisively.) You're 
making a fool of yourself, Ralph! 

Ralph 
{Bitterly) 
What does it matter ? 

Blanche 
{Rising angrily) 

A woman can't even respect a man who does that! 
{She sweeps out of the room magnificently. 
Ralph hesitates; then starts to follow her. 
Belden's powerful figure abruptly inter- 
poses itself.) 

Ralph 
{Starting violently) 



You! 



Belden 
{Nodding calmly) 



Quite so. 



Ralph 
YouVe been listening? 



86 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Belden 
I beg your pardon? 

Ralph 

Oh, don't beat around the bush! You've been lis- 
tening at the door ? 

Belden 
{Pleasantly) 
Eavesdropping ? Yes. 

Ralph 
How long ? 

Belden 
Quite a while. Long enough to get the gist of what 
you were saying. 

Ralph 
And you, you are the man she wants to marry! 

Belden 
I hope so. 

Ralph 
A man who doesn't scruple to listen at keyholes 



Belden 
{Indicating the doorway) 
There isn't any. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 87 

Ralph 

You know what I mean. A man who spies on his 
fiancee! What a rotten thing to do! 

Belden 
Contemptible, isn't it? 

Ralph 
Ha! You admit it! 

Belden 

Admit it? Why not? {He laughs,) Look here: 
I'm engaged to a girl. I intend to marry her. I leave 
her alone a few minutes. I come back to find one of 
my clerks making love to her: trying to induce her to 
marry him. What do you expect me to do? Wait 
politely till he's finished? Not listen? Or act as if I 
had heard nothing? Good Lord, man, I've got red 
blood in my veins ! I love the girl. Have it your own 
way. Say it's wrong to listen. But I'm going to 
listen anyhow! 

Ralph 
( Contemptuously ) 
You don't trust her even now. 

Belden 

Trust her? I should say not! You trusted her and 
she got engaged to me. A man who has so little inter- 



88 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

est in a girl that he trusts her doesn't deserve to marry 
her. Have you ever looked at it in that light? 

Ralph 
I should hope not. 

Belden 

Of course not, or she'd have been married to you by 
now. {He seats himself amicably.) Come, let's have 
it out. Forget that I'm paying you a salary. This is 
man to man. She hasn't done you any injustice: / 
have. 

Ralph 
What do you mean? 

Belden 
/ cut you out, didn't I? {He settles himself com- 
fortably.) You love her? Don't be afraid to speak 
out before me. 

Ralph 
{Mastering himself with an effort) 
Yes, sir. I — I love her. 

Belden 
Flattering to my taste. Thank you. And as for 
the other side of it, does she love you? 

(Ralph hesitates.) 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 89 

Belden 
This is no time for modesty. She loves you ? , 

Ralph 
I think so. 

Belden 
You are sure of it! 

Ralph 
{Resolutely) 
I am sure of it ! 

Belden 
Well, well! 

Ralph 

She was willing to marry me two years ago, and 

then 

{He hesitates again.) 

Belden 
Well, what is it? 

Ralph 
I don't think she cares for you any more than she 
did for me. It's just the way you did it. 

Belden 
My business methods? 



90 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Ralph 
Exactly. 

Belden 
By virtue of which I am engaged to her now. 

Ralph 
Unfortunately. 

Belden 
Yes. {He pauses.) The decent thing to do would 
be to release her. What do you think? 

Ralph 
{Eagerly) 
You would do that? 

Belden 
{Thoughtfully.) 

It would be the proper thing. And then, I am a 
rich man. You are not. You feel it is the money that 
makes the difference. 

Ralph 
She is not marrying you for your money, sir. 

Belden 

{Nodding gravely) 

I am glad to know it. But the question of money is 
simple. I have more than I know what to do with. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 91 

What would you say if, for instance, I were to hand 
you a hundred thousand 



Ralph 
{Dazed) 
A hundred thousand? 

Belden 

Or twice as much. Merely as a loan, you know. 
If I were to say, ** Young man, take this money. Go 
into business with it. Be successful. I will help you 
to be successful. And at the end of six months, come 
back and let her choose between us." 

Ralph 
Mr. Belden! 

Belden 

Eliminate the money question. Put ourselves on 
a more equal basis. 

Ralph 

What a generous thing to do! What a magnificent 
thing ! 

Belden 
{Thoughtfully) 
Isn't it? 



92 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Ralph 

I will make a success! I know I will make a suc- 
cess! I can't help it! And at the end of six months 
I will come back and she will choose — choose between 
you and me! 

Belden 
Sounds well, doesn't it? But what makes you 
think you'll be successful? 

Ralph 

(Enthusiastically) 
With her to work for? 

Belden 
You've had her to work for for the last four years, 
haven't j^ou? And I've raised you just once. I made 
up my mind to fire you twice. 

Ralph 
Mr. Belden! 

Belden 
You don't imagine that you're worth what I'm 
paying you to-day, do you? {He pauses.) Come back 
to the subject. It would be taking a risk, wouldn't it? 

Ralph 
A wonderful risk! 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 93 

Belden 
{Doubtfully) 
Wonderful ? No. Just a risk. If you fail, I lose my 
money. If you succeed, she might not choose me. 

Ralph 

But a risk with your eyes open ! 

Belden 

{Nodding emphatically) 

That is the kind of a risk I never take. It's a pity. 

Ralph 
{Not understanding) 
A pity ? 

Belden 
A great pity. 

Ralph 
I don't follow you. 

Belden 
That I'm not going to do it. 

Ralph 
{Thunderstruck) 
Not going to do it ? 



94 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Belden 
It would be taking a chance. I never take a chance 
when I can help it. {He glances curiously at Ralph.) 
You didn't think I was serious, did you? 

Ralph 
{Words failing him) 
Serious ? Serious ! 

Belden 
{Mildly) 
I read something like it in a book — that was all. I 
was just thinking it would have been a heroic thing to 
do. It would have been generous — as you said, mag- 
nificent. 

Ralph 
You're not going to do it? 

Belden 
Not while I am sane. I tell you, though, I'd like 
to see someone else do it ! 

Ralph 
{Furiously) 
What are you going to do? 

Belden 
{Mildly) 
I ? I'm not cut out for a hero. I'm going to play 
safe: marry her just as soon as she'll let nK. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 95 

Ralph 
And take advantage of your position? 

Belden 
{Nodding) 
Every inch of it. 

Ralph 
I thought 

Belden 
{Interrupting) 
Yes, I know you did. 

Ralph 
And instead 

Belden 
{Again interrupting) 
You find that I'm just an ordinary business man? 

Ralph 
You go about this 

Belden 

{Continuing to interrupt) 

As I go about business? Yes. You see, I know 
what you want to say. When I want something, I get 
it — if it is to be gotten — ^by the surest means I know. 



96 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Ralph 

And you go after a wife exactly as you go after 
an extra million ? 

Belden 
Exactly? No. Ten times as hard. 

Ralph 
Ah! If she knew that! 

Belden 
Don't mistake me ! The extra million doesn't mean 
much, still I work pretty hard to get it. The wife 
means a great deal — so much that it almost frightens 
me to think about it. And you want me to worry 
about fairness? Or politeness? Or about giving the 
other fellow an equal chance? Not if I am sure that 
the girl is the right girl! {He leans forward confi- 
dentially.) You see, if I dont make the extra million 
there are plenty more where it came from: every dol- 
lar's just like every other dollar. But if I don't get the 

girl ! Well, the man behind the counter w^ould 

say, " We happen to be out of this particular number." 
And I don't want anything else! I'm a devilish hard 
customer to satisfy. You see? {He smiles reminis- 
cently.) When I was a boy they fed me on hero 
stories: my father said it would be good for my char- 
acter. They didn't have to ram them down my throat 
either. I just devoured them! George Washington, 
Bayard, Joan of Arc, why, I could have told you the 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 97 

maiden names of their maternal grandmothers, that's 
how well I knew them! And G. A. Henty — and 
Oliver Optic — and Frank Castlemon — and Horatio 
Alger? I can tell you half of their plots to-day! I've 
got some of those books yet, and I take them down once 
in a while, read them, just for the sake of the pleasure 
they used to give me when I was a boy! You never 
read them, did you? 

Ralph 

{Stiffly) 
I don't see what that has to do with the case. 

Belden 

No: you wouldn't. But / see. {He pauses.) I al- 
ways admired the hero. He was so good — so truth- 
ful — so manly! When his worst enemy got into a 
scrape, he would say " I did it." That was the hero's 
business in life, saying " I did it." When his brother 
forged a will, or somebody ran off with the bank's 
money, there was the hero: " I did it." But you knew 
he didn't. And you knew he'd be set right in the end ! 
There had to be a happy ending: I knew that by the 
time I was twelve. So I was thrilled when he was 
shipwrecked — or marooned — or sentenced to be shot — 
because I knew he'd come out right side up! Why, I 
wallowed in it! And when some other fellow wanted 
his girl — do you follow me? — did he say " Don't bother 
me! "? No! That wasn't heroic. He said, " Let the 
best man win ! " and he was perfectly safe in saying 



98 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

it because the cards were stacked — and he knew it! Be- 
cause he was the best man, and he had to win, or there'd 
have been no story! He took a chance — which wasn't 
any chance at all — ^just to thrill the reader, because he 
was nothing but a character in a book, and had an 
author looking out for him anyway! {He stops and 
looks keenly into Ralph's eyes.) Do you under- 
stand? When it comes to real life, when it is a ques- 
tion of yours truly, Geoffrey Belden, he doesn't take 
a chance ! It's a real chance, and he doesn't want to be 
thrilled! It's just possible there mightnt be a happy 
ending! The hero in the book had his author to 
depend upon : Geoffrey Belden has to look out for him- 
self ! {He bows elaborately.) I'm the villain in the 
piece ! 

Ralph 
I know that already. 

Belden 
{Carefully lighting a cigarette) 
I've been something of a hard w^orker in my day, 
and one result of it is that I can do things to-day I 
couldn't do before. I can be unfair when it is to my 
interest to be unfair. People were damn unfair to me 
when I was a young fellow. 

Blanche 

{Enters the room, wearing a cloak over her evening 

gown) 

I've been hunting for you everywhere, Geoffrey. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 99 

Belden 
You come in good time. {He faces Ralph.) I 
want something now. I want it badly. So I warn you 
to do the decent thing. 

Ralph 
Warn? 

Belden 
That was the word. 

Ralph 
When you don't do the decent thing yourself? 

Belden 
{With an explanatory smile) 

I'm the villain. I warn you to give in with good 
grace: to congratulate me on my engagement. 

Ralph 
(Laughing contemptuously) 
Congratulate you ! Just watch me ! 

Belden 
It's gentlemanly: you seem keen on that. 

Ralph 
Are you joking? 



100 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Belden 

{Shrugs his shoulders hopelessly: his whole attitude 

changes) 

I never joke with my employes. 

Ralph 
(Flushing) 
Mr. Belden! 

Belden 
Rotten thing to say, isn't it? But doesn't it strike 
you that you're a good deal of a cad yourself ? 

Ralph 
What do you mean? This isn't your office, you 
know. 

Belden 
{Nodding) 
That's just the point. You wouldn't act like this 
with another man, but I'm your employer, and eti- 
quette says I mustn't discharge you. 

Ralph 
It would be contemptible. 

Belden 
That's why I'm going to do it. It takes a brave 
man to do a contemptible thing. 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE loi 

Ralph 
Discharge me? You daren't! 

Belden 
No? It's wrong. It's outrageous. It's despicable. 
But I warned you I was the villain. 

Ralph 

And you mean to ? {He turns passionately to 

Blanche.) And you, you listen to all of this, and 
say nothing? Can't I say to him, '* Keep your money! 
We have each other! " ? 

{He seizes her hand.) 

Blanche 
{Withdrawing her hand) 
Fm afraid you can't, Ralph. 

Ralph 
You stand here, see him crush me 



Blanche 
And admire him for having the courage to do a 
cowardly thing! 

Ralph 

{Wild with fury) 

He offered me — do you know what he offered ? He 
was to give me money — set me up in business — and in 



I02 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

six months — when I would be a success — you were to 
choose between us! 

Blanche 
You did that, Geoffrey? 

Ralph 
{Giving him no chance to answer) 

No, he didn't! He was leading me on, that was all! 
Joking! Just joking! 

Blanche 
But you — you would have been willing to wait six 
months ? 

Ralph 
Willing? Delighted! 

Blanche 
You would have come to me 



Ralph 
And let you choose between us! 

Blanche 

Yes. But I have made that choice. Don't you 
think I know my mind now? How many seconds did 
you think it took me to find out which was the finer 
man: you or Geoffrey? If he had been serious in his 
offer, do you know what I would have said ? I would 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 103 

have said, " You feel there is truth in what he says: that 
your money attracts me. So you propose to make him a 
rich man also. What a monstrous insult to me! " 

Ralph 
Insult? 

Blanche 
The man who marries me will want me so badly 
that six days will be too long to wait for my answer! 
He won't ask whether I marry him for his money or 
his position: he won't care why I marry him: so long 
as I marry him! 

Ralph 
But it would have been a fine thing to do ! It would 
have been a magnificent thing to do! It would have 
been a gentlemanly thing to do ! 

Blanche 

For someone else, perhaps: not for me! Fine? 
Magnificent? Gentlemanly? I don't want to be 
loved — gently. I don't want to be won — fairly! I 
don't want to think that my husband cared for me so 
little that he gave all the others an equal chance ! That 
he won me, perhaps, only because someone else was 
still more polite! {She shakes her head.) I would 
have said, '^ Gentlemen, in six months you will have 
concluded a very entertaining experiment. But don't 
come around to see me when it's over. Vm not in- 
terested ! " 



104 THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 

Belden 
{Moved) 
Thank you — thank you, Blanche. 

Ralph 
( Dazed — gasping ) 
And you — you have the reputation of being a just 
man! 

Belden 

{Nodding) 

I cultivate it. {He smiles kindly.) Don't you see, 
you re not going to tell people what a rotter I am. 

Ralph 
Not tell them ? That's just what I'm going to do ! 

Belden 
And make a fool of yourself? 

Blanche 

{Taking Belden 's arm) 

Don't worry, Geoffrey. He has done that already. 
{She turns to Ralph with an imperious 
gesture of dismissal. He hesitates. She 
smiles, then breaks into a laugh, a mocking, 
merciless laugh. He flushes, turns slowly, 
leaves the room. There is a pause. Then:) 



THE VILLAIN IN THE PIECE 105 

Blanche 
Are you really going to discharge him ? 

Belden 
{Smiling) 
What do you say, dear? 

Blanche 

( Thinks an instant. Then a steely glint comes into her 
eyes, and she nods) 

A man with so much sentiment would never be a 
success in business anyhow. Come, Geoffrey. 

{They go. The droning of the orchestra 
continues — and the murmur of conversa- 
tion — and the shuffle of dancing slip- 
pers. . . . ) 



THE CURTAIN FALLS 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

A PLAY IN TWO SCENES 



FOREWORD 

The author sincerely trusts that no reader will 
construe any part of what follows in the light of an 
attack upon one of the greatest boons of modern civiliza- 
tion — organized charity. 

But if the reader has occasionally reflected that no 
force is more capable of doing damage than that power 
of affecting the course of human life which is some- 
times placed in the hands of inexpert administrators, 
then the author will exclaim with him, ''Charity! 
What sins are committed in thy name ! " 



CHARACTERS 

Betty. 

Tom. 

Willie. 

A Charity Worker. 

A Sheriff. 



THE FIRST SCENE 



THE SCENE 

Is laid at Betty's, in a cheap tenement, in the slums 
of New York. 

THE TIME 

An evening in Summer, 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

THE FIRST SCENE 

/F rooms bespeak character, this room, the scene 
upon which the curtain rises, is eloquent. For 
it tells the tale of a struggle with poverty — a 
struggle against the most overwhelming odds. There 
is no carpet, but the floor is tolerably clean. The wall- 
paper, left by some more prosperous tenant, hangs in 
shreds, but the worst places are concealed by gaudily 
colored pictures. There is a stove, and a dish of some- 
thing is simmering on it. A few rickety chairs, no two 
alike, are about the room. And against a wall, a non- 
descript arrangement of wooden boxes, old rags, news- 
papers, and scraps of colored cloth, might pass for a 
couch. There is a window: of course there is a win- 
dow: the tenement law requires it. But the fire- 
escape outside is encumbered with drying laundry, and 
the window is as useless for ventilation as it is for 
light. 

A lifeless room. A cheerless room. An unspeak- 
ably dismal room. Yet it is the show-room of the 
'^ apartment," for, by the evidence of the couch, only one 
of the tenants can sleep here, and a wobbly door, from 

113 



114 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

which the varnish is peeling in long strips, leads into a 
" bedroom." A bedroom, indeed, it must be, though 
we make no careful investigation. A glimpse through 
the doorway reveals a decrepit mattress and a lumpy 
pillow, and, once again, the inspectors would be pleased 
to observe a diminutive hole in the wall, opening on a 
lightless shaft: a "window." 

As the curtain rises, Betty, a rather attractive girl 
of nineteen, is removing the dishes from the table at 
which she and her younger brother ToM have just 
eaten. The fairest flowers are said to bloom in filth, 
and there is a purity, a delicacy of outline about 
Betty's profile, which is curiously pleasing. There are 
hard lines about the mouth, and the beginning of a 
nasty contraction at the side of the eyelids, but these 
are not pleasing. One had better not look at them. 
Misery, and hopelessness: of course they are in her face, 
but she is a pretty girl, if you take but a fleeting glance 
at her. Let it go at that. 

Tom, the younger brother, who sells newspapers, and 
does odd jobs, is a depressingly sophisticated lad of 
eighteen. At this age a boy is supposed to be "full of 
life "; is expected to be " bubbling over with spirits." 
Perhaps that is what Tom is thinking of as he sits in 
his chair and stares — stares through grime and 
filth, and brick and stone, into something far be- 
yond. 

From some not distant church a clock strikes, Betty 
listens: 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 115 

Betty 
What time was that? 

Tom 
Seven. 

Betty 

Light the gas, Tom, will you? {He rises, scratches 
a match, and touches it to a jet in the center of the 
room. Betty takes a purse from a place of conceal- 
ment.) To-morrow's the first of the month, Tom. 

Tom 
{Slowly) 
Yes. 

Betty 
I've got the rent this time. 

Tom 
Yes? 

Betty 

{Counting out the money) 

There. And almost a dollar over. Just think what 
that means! You're making almost four dollars a 
week, and I made over eleven last week ! 

Tom 
{In the same slow, measured tone) 
Yes. 



Ii6 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Betty 
Fifteen dollars a week between us! Tom, we'll be 
able to put something by! I'm going to open an ac- 
count in a savings bank. 

Tom 
(As before) 
Yes. 

Betty 

(Putting her arms about his shoulders) 
We've slaved for it, haven't we? It used to be 
mighty hard, old fellow. 

Tom 
Yes. When Willie was with us. 

Betty 

(Nodding) 
It made ,such a difference. The two of us, to sup- 
port him, with all the things he had to have. The 
medicines — and the food 

Tom 

And one of us had to stay home part of the day. 

Betty 
Well, he couldn't do much for himself, could he? 

Tom 
It's hard to make a living when you've got only half 
your time to do it in. 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 117 

Betty 
Tom, we oughtn't complain. We had to do it. If 
you were taken sick, I'd look out for you, wouldn't I? 
It would be the least I could do. {He shrugs his 
shoulders.) Well, Willie's our brother. 

Tom 

What did Willie ever do for us when he was well? 
(Betty does not answer.) He made more money than 
both of us put together, but we never saw any of it! 
We could go to the dogs for all he cared ! 

Betty 

( Reproachfully ) 
Tom! 

Tom 

( Dispassionately ) 
I'm not saying this because I'm angry. I'm simply 
telling you what happened. Willie made the money, 
and Willie spent the money. He liked to amuse him- 
self. There was nothing to stop him. You needed 
shoes, but Willie needed a drink. So Willie got the 
drink, and you — you could have gone barefoot for all 
the difference it made to him. 

Betty 
Tom, he was punished. 

Tom 

He punished? Not much! Do you call it punish- 
ment that he fell off a ladder when he was drunk ? No, 



Ii8 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

we were punished! We! It wasn't hard enough to 
look out for ourselves: we had to look out for him 
too . . . 

{He breaks off.) 

Betty 

Tom : Willie's a cripple. The doctors say he won't 
live six months. Don't you think you might forgive 
him? 

Tom 

Forgiving him is easy. What's done is done. But 
that's not the point. Willie's coming home. 

Betty 
{Thunderstruck) 
Coming home? But I thought the Society was 
taking care of him. 

Tom 
Yes. 

Betty 
Then why ? 

Tom 
I stopped in this afternoon. You know, they said 
I was to see Willie once a week. 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 119 

Betty 
{Impatiently) 
Well? 

Tom 

They've cured him. 

Betty 
Cured him ? Then he'll be able to work ! 

Tom 
(Shaking his head slowly) 
No. 

Betty 
What do you mean? 

Tom 
It's very simple. He was a cripple. He was going 
to die in six months. But they were charitable. They 
sent him to the hospital. They operated him. 

Betty 
{Breathlessly) 
And what happened? 

Tom 
The operation was a success. {He pauses.) He'll 
live, do you understand? He's got as many years in 



I20 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

him as you or I, but he's paralyzed — that's all: just 
paralyzed. 

Betty 
(Slowly) 
Then he's no better. 

Tom 
Oh, yes! He's lots better! We thought he was 
going to die. The doctors thought he was going to 
die. But they operated. It was a wonderful opera- 
tion. The lady in charge at the Society told me how 
wonderful it was : the doctors are going to write a book 
about it. So — Willie's not going to die. He's coming 
back here to live with us. 

Betty 

(Jghast) 
But we can't take care of him! 

Tom 
The hospital can't. They've got other sick people. 

Betty 

Willie's sick! 

Tom 
{Shaking his head) 
He's as well as he'll ever be. He doesn't need the 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 121 

hospital. Only medicines, and good food, and some- 
body to wheel him around, and he'll live to be seventy. 

Betty 
{Staggering under the succession of blows) 
Somebody to wheel him around ? 

Tom 
The ladies at the Society took up a collection and 
bought him a wheel chair. I saw it. Rubber tires, 
and silk cushions, and real mahogany. He's got to 
be in the fresh air for two hours every day. 

Betty 

How will we get him up and down stairs? 

Tom 

{Does not answer. When he speaks again it is in the 
same dead voice) 

If it had been a year sooner, they couldn't have saved 
him. It's a new operation. The lady at the Society 
said we ought to be very thankful. He might have 
died {with a sudden flash of anger), but they wouldn't 
let him! 

Betty 

But why do they send him here? Why doesn't the 
Society take care of him? That's what they're for. 
They can take care of him so much better! 



122 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Tom 
They've been taking care of him for some time now. 

Betty 
What of that? 

Tom 
( Wearily ) 
Don't you understand ? They don't believe in break- 
ing up the family. (Betty does not answer.) Willie 
has a home to go to. {He waves his hand grimly.) 
This is the home. So they're sending him here. {He 
pauses again.) The lady at the Society explained it 
all to me. Too much charity would make paupers out 
of us, and they don't want that to happen. They've 
done all they think they should for Willie. It's up to 
us now. 

Betty 

{Desperately) 
Tom: if Willie comes here you know what it will 
mean. We're just managing to live — we're just man- 
aging to get along 

Tom 

{Bitterly) 

The Society doesn't want to break up the home. It's 

our privilege to look out for Willie : " privilege " : that 

was the word she used. The Society helped us over 



I 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 123 

a hard place, but if they helped us any more it would 
be bad for us. They're afraid it would make us less 
independent. . . . Well, Willie'll be here any minute. 

Betty 
( Taking his hands, almost weeping) 
Tom! Tom! 

Tom 

You know, we rich people — a few dollars more or 
less don't matter. And we can't pitch him out into 
the street, can we? He's our brother. 

Betty 
Tom, what's to become of us? 

Tom 

Betty: nobody cares. We don't matter. {There is 
a sound of voices outside.) They're bringing him up. 

{A rap at the door. Betty opens it.) 

The Charity Worker 

{Enters. She is a thin, kind-faced woman of middle 
age, rather winded from the steep ascent) 
Is this — is this ? 

Tom 
{Recognizing her) 
Yes. This is the place, Mrs. Todd. 



124 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

The Charity Worker 
{With a sigh of relief) 
It wasn't easy bringing him up those stairs. 

( Two men, one in front, one behind, lift 
Willie, chair and all, over the threshold, 
and wheel him into the room. Willie is a 
large-framed man of twenty-three, whose 
head rolls from side to side as the chair moves. 
The lower part of his body is snugly wrapped 
in a blanket.) 

Betty 

{Neither joy nor love nor surprise in her voice. Simply 
recognition of a fact) 
Willie! 

Willie 
{Speaking in the uncertain voice of a paralytic — a voice 
which has been seriously affected by his ailment) 
How — how do you do? 

The Charity Worker 

{Smoothing Willie's hair, and putting on a few finish- 
ing touches as if he were an entry in a dog-show) 
He looks well, doesn't he? Splendid color! Well, 

I'm going to leave you here, Willie. 

Willie 
Y — yes, Mrs. Todd. 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 125 

The Charity Worker 
You'll have your brother and sister to take care of 
you. You'll like that better than the hospital, won't 
you? 

Willie 
Y—yes, Mrs. Todd, 

The Charity Worker 

(Turning enthusiastically to Tom) 

It's wonderful what science can do now-a-days! 
When he came to us — you know what he was like. 

Tom 
Yes. 

The Charity Worker 

And now! Look at him! Would anybody think 
that the doctors actually gave him up? Tom, {she 
lays her hand on his shoulder) you ought to be very 
grateful ! We've saved him for you ! Saved him ! 

Betty 
{Rising to the situation) 
I'm sure we're very thankful, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
{Pleased) 
Of course. Of course. But the Society doesn't want 
thanks. We're just glad that we've helped you. And 
I'm sure you'll take good care of him. 



126 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Betty 
(Slowly) 
Yes. 

The Charity Worker 

Two hours of fresh air every day — your brother can 
help you carry him downstairs — and milk, and plenty of 
food. That's all. And his medicine three times a day. 
(She takes the botle from Willie's breast pocket, and 
shows it to her.) It's all written on the bottle. 

Betty 
(Taking the bottle) 
Yes, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
He won't be much trouble. (From the chair comes 
a gasping gurgle — ^Willie's laugh.) You see how 
cheerful he is? He has a magnificent constitution, 
haven't you, Willie ? 

Willie 
Y— yes, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 

(Drawing Betty aside) 

The doctors never expected him to pull through: 
they were surprised when he came out of the ether! 
(She smiles confidentially.) You ought to be proud of 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 



127 



him: he's quite a celebrity in his way. {She turns back 
to Willie.) Well, I must be going, but I'm leaving 
you in good hands. Good-by, Willie. 

Willie 
G — good-by, Mrs. Todd. 

Tom 
{Drawing the Charity Worker to one side as she is 
about to leave) 
Mrs. Todd! 

The Charity Worker 
{With a pleasant smile) 
Yes? 

Tom 

{Almost desperately) 

Don't you think the Society could take better care 
of him than we could ? 

The Charity Worker 
{Her smiles freezing on her lips) 
I've explained that to you once. 

Tom 
{Resolutely) 
But that's what the Society's for, isn't it? 



128 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

The Charity Worker 
{Standing on her dignity) 
The ladies who founded the Society are quite com- 
petent to manage it. {He is so crushed that she con- 
tinues more kindly.) Tom, this isn't the only case of 
the kind we've handled. We've had a hundred like 
it! And we're doing for you what our experience has 
taught us is best. 

Tom 
But if it doesn't work? 

The Charity Worker 
{Confidently) 

It will. {She radiates a liberally inclusive smile 
upon the reunited family.) Good-by. {She goes.) 
{There is a pause. The others, who have 
overheard nothing of the conversation, have, 
nevertheless, maintained a respectful silence. 
Now Willie turns to his sister.) 

Willie 
W — well, sis! G — glad to see me? 

Betty 
Of course, Willie. 

Willie 
I — I'm a triumph of surgery. That — that's what 
the doctors said. Took me all apart, and put me to- 
gether again, and here I am, alive and kicking! N — 
no, not kicking, but alive ! You bet I'm alive! 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 129 

Betty 
Don't talk if it tires you, Willie. 

Willie 

N — no. It doesn't tire me. I — I did a lot of talk- 
ing in the hospital. And reading ! I did a lot of read- 
ing. You — you see {he jerks his head a little to one 
side) there's a thing on the chair to hold a book. You 
put it in front of me, and you turn the pages. 

Betty 
You can't use your hands, Willie? You used to. 

Willie 

They're not much good to me now. But I can talk, 
I can! I- — I'm a gay old bird! (Betty and Tom 
stare at each other in expressive silence.) Eighteen 
men operated, and I'm the only one who wasn't killed 
by it! Survival of the fittest, eh? {He laughs his gur- 
gling laugh.) I learnt that from a book at the hos- 
pital. The weakest go to the wall ! {He laughs again. 
Then, suddenly:) Tom! 

Tom 
Yes, Willie? 

Willie 
B — bet you a dollar I live longer than you do! 

THE curtain falls 



THE SECOND SCENE 



THE SCENE 
Is the same as before. 

THE TIME 

Two months later — an October morning. 



THE SECOND SCENE 

^\NCE more the room speaks for itself. Some of 
m M the pictures still remain on the wallj but they 
^"^ no longer hang straight, and do not conceal 
the rents in the wall-paper. A highly colored picture 
of St. Francis throwing food to the birds, a picture 
which lent something of dignity to the first scene, 
is all askew, and the saint seems to have acquired 
an odd rakishness of expression. The window and 
the floor are dirty, and litter of all kinds has accumu- 
lated. 

On the couch sits Betty, tired, sleepy, her head be- 
tween her hands. It is little we can see of her as she 
huddles up, in a vain effort, as it were, to hide herself 
from the world, but the glance which once appraised 
her claims to beauty cannot avoid the cheaply gaudy 
dress, the bedraggled plumes of her hat, the cracked 
patent-leather shoes, the sheer silk stockings, and, as 
she moves, the rouge and lip-salve which are so liber- 
ally applied to the pinched features. Her hand trem- 
bles, and the imitation jewelry with which it is laden 
glitters. She is pathetic — indescribably pathetic, and 
she alone, in all the world, cannot appreciate it. For 
her intelligence, never of the greatest, is quite unable 
to cope with the situation. That Willie, who, like 

133 



134 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

some heathen idol, sits motionless in the center of the 
room, has had something to do with her downfall, she 
recognizes — but recognizes dimly. The whole catas- 
trophe is too overwhelming, too devastating, and, with 
it, has come a blessed numbness, a hazy indifference, 
under whose kindly anesthesia the poor thread of her 
life writhes on. 

Willie, motionless, sits in his chair, and the smoke 
which curls from a cigarette in his mouth lends a curi- 
ous emphasis to the continual play of his twitching 
features. From outside, through the unwashed win- 
dow, comes a brilliant beam of sunlight, a beam hot, 
and quivering with life. And it falls upon the meager 
furnishings of the room and makes them stand forth 
but more sharply in their gaunt nakedness. 

Willie 
Tom! {There is no answer.) Tom! 

Betty 
{Raising her head listlessly) 
What do you want? 

Willie 
I — I want Tom to take the cigarette out of my 
mouth. 

Betty 
{Relapsing into her stupor) 
He's asleep. 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 135 

Willie 
W — ^well, I want him! What business has he got 
to go. to sleep now? Tom! Tom! 

Tom 

{Appearing at the bedroom door) 

I heard you the first time. {He enters. He is 
fully dressed J and carries a small bundle.) There you 
are. 

{He snatches the cigarette out of Willie's 
mouth.) 

Willie 
D — don't have to be so rough about it! {He 
pauses.) 1l) — do you hear me? Don't have to be so 
rough about it ! 

Tom 

{Crossing gently to Betty) 

Betty! {He touches her arm.) Wake up, Batty! 

Betty 
What is it? 

Tom 
The sheriff will be here any minute now. 

Willie 
{Catching the word) 
Eh? Sheriff? 



136 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Tom 

{Disregarding him) 

Betty! {She has sunken into her stupor again.) 
Listen to me, Betty! I'm not going to wait for him. 

Betty 
Eh? 

Tom 
I'm going away. Do you understand that, Betty? 

Betty 
What? 

Tom 
I'm going away — far away. Outside of New York. 

Betty 
(Beginning to realize) 
You're not going to leave me, Tom? 

Tom 
{Resolutely) 
Yes. 

Betty 
{Fully wide awake) 
Tom! You don't mean it! You don't mean that 
you're going for good and all? 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 137 

Tom 
Yes, Betty. 

Betty 

{Aghast) 
Tom! {With terrible suspicion.) You're going be- 
cause ! 

{A vaguely inclusive gesture to her tawdry 
finery. ) 

Tom 
{Earnestly) 

No — that's not why. I don't blame you. Under- 
stand that, Betty, I don't blame you. 

Betty 
Then why ? 

Tom 

Betty, you've got nothing to do with it! I'm going 
away because I want a chance for myself! I'm young! 
I've got my life before me! And I'm going to make 
the most of it! 

(Willie, in his chair j laughs harshly.) 

Betty 
But why don't you stay here? 

Tom 
Here? 

{A torrent of words rises to his lips, but he 
sees how futile any explanation must be.) 



138 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Betty 

{Desperately) 
If you go away, Tom, what will become of mef 

Tom 
I don't know. 

Betty 
Take me with you! 

Tom 

{Shaking his head) 
No. You'll hamper me. {She recoils as if struck 
by a whip-lash. He takes her hands.) Betty: two 
months ago we had a chance, you and I! But you, 
you're done for! And I, by God, I'm not! 

Betty 
Tom! 

Tom 

{Vehemently) 

You loved him — and see what's become of you! 
You're finished! You're down and out! You can't 
help me: you can only hurt me! 

Betty 

Tom : don't you love me ? 



I 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 139 

Tom 

Yes! But we've got no chance together! It's each 
for himself, Betty! Good-by! (She falls on his neck, 
weeping. Slowly and deliberately he disengages her 
arms, and with a sudden tenderness, presses a kiss to 
the painted lips.) Good-by! {He turns, and his 
glance falls upon the^ motionless cripple, living eyes, 
living mouth, living brain, mocking him in a dead 
body. He nods grimly.) Willie! 

Willie 
( Terrified as Tom draws near) 
W — ^what is it? 

Tom 
{With a short laugh) 
Oh, I'm not going to hurt you! But I want you 
to deliver a message to Mrs. Todd. {He pauses.) 
Tell her, Willie, tell Mrs. Todd, it didnt work. 
{He goes.) 

Willie 

{Rather relieved at the sound of his departing foot- 
steps) 
Survival of the fittest! Eh, Betty? Weakest go 
to the wall! {He laughs.) S — survival of the fittest! 
{Huddled on the couch, Betty weeps loudly.) Betty! 
Eh, Betty! 

Betty 

What? 



140 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Willie 



Sheriff coming? 
Yes. 

Being evicted, eh? 



Betty 
Willie 



Betty 

Yes. {She wipes her eyes and blows her nose.) 
I stopped in at the Society. 

Willie 
Yes? 

Betty 
They're going to send for you. 

' Willie 

Of course. (He grins.) Couldn't pitch me into 
the street, could they ? G — got to take care of me, eh ? 
{She does not answer.) Betty, they call that sur- 
vival of the fittest! Fm fit! 

{Through the open door enter The Charity 
Worker and The Sheriff, a tall, burly 
individual.) 

The Sheriff 
{Leading the way) 
This is the place, Mrs. Todd. 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 141 

The Charity Worker 
Fm sure it's not. (She catches sight of Willie.) 
Yes, it is. {Going up to Willie, much moved.) Ah, 
my poor fellow! 

Willie 
H— hello, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
{Brushing dust from Willie's coat) 
What a state you're in! They haven't taken good 
care of you, have they? 

Willie 
N — not very, Mrs, Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
It's an outrage! Nothing more nor less! (Betty 
has risen J and faces her.) You heard what I said? 
It's an outrage! A poor, helpless cripple — the way 
you've taken care of him! (Betty, rather confused, 
does not move. The Charity Worker notices her 
attire, and suddenly takes in its significance.) Good 
Heavens! So you're that kind! You! Why didn't 
you tell me that, Willie? If I'd known, I would 
never have let you come here! Never! {Genuinely 
affected.) To think where I sent you! 

(Betty laughs loudly and hysterically.) 



142 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

The Charity Worker 
{Indignant) 
You're laughing at me? (Appealingly.) Sheriff! 

The Sheriff 
Don't mind her, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
But she's laughing! 

The Sheriff 
{Consolingly) 
They've got no feelings, those people! Bite the 
hand that feeds them! They're just animals! 

Betty 

{Taking up the word) 
Animals? An animal? Yes! That's what you've 
made me! But I wasn't an animal till he came here! 

The Charity Worker 
What do you mean? 

Betty 
It was hard enough to get along — only the two of 
us, Tom and me. And then he came along^ he, just 
a mouth to be fed, and hands that couldn't work, and 
we didn't have the money, and we couldn't get the 
money. So — well, that's why I'm that kind! Because 
I couldn't keep him alive any other way! 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 143 

The Charity Worker 
(Taken aback) 
Sheriff: is this true? 

The Sheriff 
{Shaking his head with an easy superiority) 
Not a word of it. 

Betty 
What?! 

The Sheriff 
{With a contemptuous wave of the hand) 
She? She's no good anyhow! 

Betty 
{Indignantly) 
That's not so! 

The Sheriff 

Not so? You think I haven't seen you hanging 
around the dance halls and the saloons 



Betty 

{Interrupting furiously) 
You didn't see me there until he came! 

The Sheriff 
{Mildly amused) 
What? 



144 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

Betty 
I was a good girl just as long as I could be! But 
when we had to take care of him, the money wasn't 
enough, and there was nothing else I could do! 

The Sheriff 
{With finality) 
That's what they all say ! There's nothing else any 
of 'em could do! {He seizes her roughly by the 
shoulders.) Listen to me, my girl! You're rotten! 
You're naturally rotten! I'd tell you to give 
it up, but I know your kind! You won't! It isn't 
in you! You're no good — you're headed wrong — and 
you know where you're going to finish! {He flings 
her aside, and turns to The Charity Worker, with 
a gesture to Willie.) Can he walk? 

The Charity Worker 
Oh, no! 

The Sheriff 
I'll have the men carry him downstairs. 

Betty 

{Near the door, would like to speak j hut she is a little 
deficient in education. And after all, she has said 
what she has to say. What remains to be said is 
beyond her — and above her. And then The 
Sheriff and The Charity Worker are so 
manifestly hostile. The Sheriff turns and sees 
her.) 



ACCORDING TO DARWIN 145 

The Sheriff 

{Advancing on Betty) 

Can't waste any more time on you ! Out you go ! 

Willie 
{Contributing his first word to a scene of which he has 
been an interested spectator) 
S~ survival of the fittest, eh, Sheriff? 



Betty 

{Retreating before the menacing embodiment of the 
law, pauses at the threshold. So many feelings 
vaguely surge within her. But she is not an adept at 
choosing words. This room has seen her tragedy. 
This she faintly comprehends, but cannot find the 
language to voice illimitable protest. And with that 
instinctive desire to make a dramatic exit which lies 
deep in every one of us, she gathers herself up in her 
pitiable finery.) 

Sheriff! 

The Sheriff 

{Bumping her brutally through the door) 
Git! 

{He follows her.) 

{A pause.) 



146 ACCORDING TO DARWIN 

The Charity Worker 

{Turns to Willie, and at his sight — not at the 
thought of what has just taken place, wipes a tear 
from her eye.) 

It's been pretty bad, hasn't it, Willie? 

Willie 

(In whose self-centered brain may lurk a better under- 
standing of the situation) 
Y— yes, Mrs. Todd. 

The Charity Worker 
What you must have gone through! {She shakes 
her head in pity. Then, with a rather cheerful smile:) 
Well, Willie, have you any other relatives? 



THE curtain falls 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

A PLAY 

Here''s my case. Of old I used to lo<ve him. . . , *' 




CHARACTERS 

The Father. 
The Mother. 
The Child. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

/T is Christmas Eve. A cheerful fire is blazing 
in the old-fashioned hearth^ and in its wavering 
light the contents of the room seem to he in- 
dulging in a grotesquely weird dance. Dignified 
chairs, well upholstered settees, and even the old- 
fashioned staircase at the rear flash into sight for an 
instant, and are swallowed up in shadows the next. 
And just beneath the staircase, where it curves to- 
wards the right to the lower landing, is the door of 
the dining-room, a door with leaded glass in its upper 
half, through which comes a dim but very steady 
illumination, a light in curious contrast to the alter- 
nate brilliance and eclipse of the crackling embers. 

In the next room the family has just disposed of the 
evening meal. There is a clatter of dishes, a burst 
of laughter, and then, through the suddenly opened 
door, all three, father with the child on his shoulder, 
and mother sedately bringing up the rear, enter the 
living-room. 

The Father 
{In the best of good spirits) 
Well! This is something like! A good dinner, 
and my family round me, and Christmas Eve! Eh, 
Donald? 

{He swings the child to the ground.) 
149 



I50 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Child 
(Running to the manteL He is a robust little fellow 
of six or seven) 
Is my stocking there? 

The Father 
Your stocking? {Turning to the mother with mock 
seriousness.) Where — where is Donald's stocking? 

The Mother 
I'm going to give him one of mine. It's bigger. 

The Child 
{Delighted) 
Oh, mother! 

The Mother 
And when it's full of things it'll stretch — it'll 
stretch ever so much. It won't look like a stocking 
at all ! It'll look like a great big sausage ! 

The Child 
And all for me? 

The Father 
Everything in it! 

The Child 
Oh! {He pauses.) But Santa Claus might for- 
get me. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 151 

The Father 
{Laughing) 
He won't do that! {Taking him on his knee.) 
You wrote him a letter, didn't you? 

The Child 
Oh, yes! A long letter! 

The Father 
And you put it in the chimney last night? 

The Child 
{Nodding) 
Right in front: where he had to see it. 

The Mother 
Perhaps Santa Claus has taken the letter already, 
Donald. 

The Child 
Would he take the letter ? 

The Father 
{With a wink at the mother) 
Well, how would he read it otherwise? 

The Child 
I'll see! 

{He runs upstairs.) 




152 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Father 
(Turning to the mother with a laugh) 
I went straight through his list for him: got him 
everything he wanted. 

{He pulls the letter out of his pocket.) 

The Mother 

(Sitting on the arm of his chair and looking over his 

shoulder) 

The pop-gun? 

The Father 
Yes. They've got a new kind that's perfectly safe. 

The Mother 
And the (she is evidently quoting) real electric 
motor ? 

The Father 

The genuine article. 

The Mother 
And — and What on earth is that? 

The Father 
( Taking the letter) 



What? 



The Mother 
(Pointing) 



Y— r. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 153 

The Father 
{Laughing uproariously) 
Don't you know? 

The Mother 
{At a loss) 
Y— r? 

The Father 
Yes. {She shakes her head.) When I was a boy 
y — r spelled " wire " ! 

The Mother 
{Laughing) 
Oh! 

The Father 

Thank the Lord, I'm not so educated that I don't 
remember that! Well, I got it: the whole business! 
It's all under your bed. I had to hide it coming in, 
or he'd have seen it. {He laughs happily.) You 
know, I'm enjoying it as much as he is! Playing 
Santa Claus! 

The Mother 
I believed in him until I was a girl of eleven. 

The Father 

No? 



154 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Mother 
Really. 

The Father 
And your folks never let on? 

The Mother 
Never a word. They enjoyed it as much as you do. 

The Father 
Funny, isn't it? What pleasure we get out of it? 
I wonder why? I think it's because you enjoy fool- 
ing somebody. 

The Mother 
Well, Donald enjoys being fooled. 

The Father 
But he doesn't know it. 

The Mother 
{Nodding) 
Yes. That's why he enjoys it. 

The Child 
(Running downstairs) 
Father ! Mother ! 

The Mother 
(Rising anxiously) 
Look out, Donald, you'll fall! 



I 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 155 

The Child 
{Reaching the landing safely) 
Mother! The letter's gone! 

The Father 
You don't mean it! 

The Mother 
Of course it's gone! 

The Father 
Santa must have taken it. 

The Child 
Do you think so, father? 

The Father 
He's got to read it, hasn't he? 

The Child 
Y— es. 

The Father 

Then he has to see if he's got everything you want. 
So he comes the night before. 

The Child 
Oh! And will he give me all I want? 

The Mother 
If you've been a good boy, Donald. 



156 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Child 
How do you know? 

The Father 

We dont know. We hope so! Isn't that right, 
Mary? We hope so! 

The Child 
{Hesitantly) 
I asked for an awful lot. 

The Father 
{Restraining his laughter with difficulty) 
Well! Well! 

The Child 
A motor — and a bag of marbles — {the mother 
glances apprehensively at the father, afraid that he 
has forgotten this important item, hut he nods imper- 
ceptibly, and continues to nod as the child goes through 
his list) — and a first baseman's glove — and a pop-gun 

— and a game — and candy — and — and 

{He stops to think.) 

The Mother 
{Smiling at his earnestness) 
What else, Donald? 

The Child 
I guess that's all. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 157 

The Father 
{Laughing) 
If you don't ask for anything, you never get any- 
thing. Now, you just wait till to-morrow! 

The Child 
To-morrow ? 

The Father 
And we'll see what Santa Claus has brought you. 

The Child 

Oh! (A variety of expressions play over his earnest 
little face.) May I get up early? 

The Mother 
As early as you like. 

The Child 
But if I don't wake in time ? 



r 



The Father 

You will if you go to bed now. (As the child hesi- 
tates,) And I'll rap on your door at six o'clock. 

The Child 

{Reassured) 

Don't forget! Good-night, father. 
{He shakes hands.) 



IS8 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Father 
Good-night, son. 

The Child 
Good-night, mother. 

The Mother 
(Kissing him) 
Sleep tight, dear. 

The Child 
{Stopping on his way to the stairs) 
Father? 

The Father 
Yes? 

The Child 
Have you ever seen Santa Claus? 

The Father 
(Amused) 
Seen him? 

The Child 
Really and truly seen him yourself? 

The Father 
No: I can't say I have. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 159 

The Child 
Then how do you know there is one? 

The Father 
Well 

The Child 
If you never saw him? 

The Father 
My father told me about him. 

The Child 
Did he ever see him? 

The Father 
No. 

The Child 
Then how did he know? 

The Father 
Well, his father told him about him. 

The Child 
Oh! 

The Father 

And he learnt from his father, and so on, and so on, 
way, way back. 



i6o THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Child 
Oh. {He thinks.) Does that make It true? 

The Father 

Well 

{He is a little nonplussed) 

The Mother 
{Coming to the rescue) 
Yes, Donald. 

The Child 
But way, way, way back — didn't anybody ever see 
him? 

The Mother 
Perhaps 

The Child 
{After a pause) 
If I grow up, and I have a little boy, and I tell him 
something, and he grows up and tells his little boy 
something, does that make it true? 

The Father 
{Laughing) 
It's time to go to bed, Donald. 

The Child 
{Persisting) 
But does it make it true? 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY i6i 

The Father 
I'll tell you to-morrow, Donald. 

The Child 
(Looks around in perplexity. Then:) 
Good-night. {He goes.) 

( There is a pause. Father and mother watch 
the child with visible pride as it climbs out 
of sight. Then:) 

The Father 
Bright boy, isn't he? My boy! 



The Mother 
(Coming to his side) 



And mine ! 



The Father 
{Laughing reminiscently) 
** Does that make it true ? " 

The Mother 
Well, does it? 

The Father 
As if it mattered! 

The Mother 
Mattered ? 



i62 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Father 
A child can ask questions which a wise man can't 
answer. 

The Mother 
But a child has beliefs. 

The Father 
At that age? 

The Mother 
At any age. I can't help thinking that the sooner 
its beliefs are true beliefs, the better. 

The Father 
{Surprised) 
Are you serious, Mary? 

The Mother 

{Nodding) 

It strikes home sometimes. We're all of us chil- 
dren — we " grown-ups." It just depends on the point 
of view. And we believe exactly what our fathers tell 
us. Only we don't ask as many questions as children 
ask — and we're not so easily satisfied with the an- 
swers. But when we do ask questions ! 

{She breaks off abruptly.) 

The Father 
Mary! 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 163 

The Mother 
(Shrugging her shoulders) 

I'll get the things. 

(She goes off into the bedroom at the side.) 

The Father 

(Puzzled) 

What do you mean, Mary? (As she does not an- 
swer:) What on earth do you mean? 

The Mother 

(Returning with an armful of bundles) 

Here is a stocking, Philip. And here are the pres- 
ents. 

The Father 

(Pinning the stocking to the mantel, and arranging 
the bulkier presents on a nearby table) 

What did you mean by what you said before ? 

The Mother 

(Shaking her head) 

You mightn't understand, Philip. (She seats her* 
self, and watches him.) You know, when I found 
out that my parents had been fooling me about Santa 
Claus, I resented it. 

The Father 
At the age of eleven? 



i64 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Mother 

Yes. Very much. That's why I wanted you to 
tell the truth to Donald long ago. 

The Father 
{Vibrating between the stocking and the table) 
And spoil his pleasure? There's always time for 
that. 

The Mother 
He's as old as I was when I found out. You see, 
the girls I went around with explained: explained 
very cruelly, as they explained other things a few 
years later. My parents never explained anything. 

The Father 
Would you put the marbles in the stocking? 

The Mother 

Yes. At the bottom. {As he proceeds rather awk- 
wardly,) Take the stocking off the mantel. Don't 
pin it up until you've filled it. {She pauses.) It's 
a peculiar world a child lives in. A world where 
everthing is mysterious and strange, but where every- 
thing is terribly real. A world where everyone be- 
lieves: where everyone questions: where any answer 
passes for truth. It's a world — come to think of it — 
very much like our own world. {She rises slowly and 
goes to a window, where she pushes aside the cur- 
tains and peers out.) Enough snow in sight to satisfy 
even Santa Claus, Philip. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 165 

The Father 
(Who has been so busy arranging the table that he 
has not listened to her) 
There! How does that look? 

The Mother 
{Du tifu lly adm iring ) 
Very nice, Philip. {She moves towards the bed- 
room.) Coming to bea soon? 

The Father 
In a few minutes. 

The Mother 

All right. 

{She goes out.) 

(The father gives the finishing touches to 
his work; stands off to survey it; pins the 
bulging stocking to the mantel. Mean- 
while the childj dressed in nightgown and 
slippers, has come downstairs. For an in- 
stant the father does not see him, and con- 
tinues. Then the child, with a kind of a 
gasp, comes up to him.) 

The Child 
Father! 

The Father 
Eh? Donald? But you ought to be in bed! 



i66 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Child 
I came down to see. 

The Father 
You shouldn't have done that. 

The Child 
Father! There isn't any Santa Claus! 

The Father 
Well, well, so that's it? {He breaks into a peal 
of laughter.) You had to find it out sooner or later, 
didn't you? 

The Child 

You and mother have been giving me ? {The 

father nods.) Why didn't you tell me? 

The Father 
Why ? Because my father did the same thing, Don- 
ald. ( The child's lip quivers. The father seats him- 
self near the fire.) Come here, Donald. {He takes 
him on his lap.) Once a year, Donald, we celebrate 
Christmas. And because we want all the children to 
be happy when Christmas comes, we tell them this 
story: that there is a Santa Claus, who loves chil- 
dren, and brings them presents, so that they shall be 
happy. I believed it when I was a boy, and when you 
are a man you will tell it to your little boy. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 167 

The Child 
Even if it isn't true ? 

The Father 

{Nodding) 

Because it's a beautiful story. Because it will make 
your children happy just as it has made <jou happy. 

The Child 
But if I don't believe it myself ? 

The Father 
You will want them to believe it. 

The Child 

Why? 

The Father 
Because it will make them happy. 

The Child 

Oh! {After a pause.) It's better yo be happy 
than 

The Father 
Than what ? 

The Child 
Than to know what's true, isn't it? 



i68 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Father 
{After a pause) 
Sometimes, Donald. Yes. Sometimes. 

The Child 
So all fathers tell their children stories like that. 

The Father 
{Nodding) 
They are beautiful stories. 

The Child 

{After a pause) 

Nora told me the Bogie Man lived in the dark. 
That wasn't a beautiful story. 



Well? 
Is it true ? 
No. 



The Father 
{Smiling) 

The Child 

The Father 



The Child 
Then why did she tell me? 

The Father 
Because somebody told her that when she was a child. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 169 

The Child 
They were fooling her, weren't they? 

The Father 
Perhaps they believed it. 

The Child 
Even if it wasn't true? 

The Father 
Perhaps they didn't know. 

The Child 

Oh! {He thinks.) So some day somebody'll tell 
them they've been fooling them — like about Santa 
Claus. 

The Father 
Perhaps. 

The Child 
And then they'll tell Nora, and Nora'll tell me. 
{He pauses.) But if they don't tell Nora? 

The Father 
It's time for you to be in bed, Donald. 

The Child 
But I want to know! Nora says somebody'll die 
if you break a mirror. Is that true? 



I70 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Father 

No. 

The Child 
Nora's been fooling me. 

The Father 

Because somebody else has been fooling her. You 
must remember that silly people invent reasons for 
things they can't understand. Those aren't beautiful 
stories: we call them superstitions. 

The Child 
Super ? 

The Father 
Superstitions. 

The Child 
Oh! So it isn't bad luck to spill the salt? 

The Father 
Of course not. 

The Child 
Or to walk under a ladder? 

The Father 
(Smiling) 
Where did you learn all of that rubbish? 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 171 

The Child 
(Persistinff) 
And the stork? 

The Father 
What do you mean? What stork? 

The Child 
The stork that brings little babies? 

The Father 
(Laughing) 
There isn't any. 

The Child 
Then how do they come? 

The Father 
{Rising) 
I'll explain that to you when you are older, Donald. 

The Child 
Why not now? 

The Father 

Because you wouldn't understand. Because there 
are some of the beautiful stories we don't explain 
until you are grown up. It won't be so long now, 
Donald. Then I'll tell you. {He swings him up in 
the air.) Good-night, son. 



172 THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 

The Child 

{Fascinated by the sight of the full stocking and 
the Christmas presents as he looks over his father s 
shoulder.) 

Oh! Is everything there? 

The Father 
Everything ! 

The Child 
Everything I asked for? 

The Father 
The marbles — and the pop-gun 

The Child 
And the first baseman's mitt? 

The Father 
Yes. And the really, truly motor! 

The Child 
Oh! And the candy? 

The Father 

Just wait till to-morrow! (He kisses him; carries 
him to the staircase and sets him down on the first 
step.) Good-night, little man! 

The Child 
(Running upstairs) 
Good-night, father. 



THE BEAUTIFUL STORY 173 

The Father 

{Stands in thought an instant; he smiles. Then, very 
softly, he calls upstairs:) 

Good-night, little man! 

{He extinguishes the lamps, and then, still 
smiling, crosses into the bedroom, closing the 
door behind him.) 

(A pause. The room is lit only by the 
dying fire, and the furniture has resumed 
its grotesque dance. Then the white-clad 
figure of the child becomes visible on the 
stairs. ) 

The Child 
Father! {There is no answer, but the child evi- 
dently takes a shadow in the corner of the room for 
the father.) Father! I'm not going to say my prayers 
to-night! {He pauses for an answer. There is none.) 
Father! I know something else you've been fooling 
me about! You've been fooling me about God! 

{He breaks into childish laughter. Then, 
suddenly, he sees that the room is empty. 
This is his opportunity. Noiselessly he 
crosses to the fireplace, removes the stocking, 
and walking softly so that he will not be 
heard, creeps upstairs with it.) 

{A long pause.) 

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